Puzzle Pieces
by EvvieJo
Summary: There is a hole in Kurt's life that needs filling. To his surprise, a visit to a gay bar results in filling that hole to the brim with love, problems, and a set of alter egos. - AU, DID!Blaine.
1. Chapter 1: Mismatched

**Chapter 1: Mismatched**

The club was packed full of extravagantly dressed young men, the dance floor was teeming with pairs, their arms wrapped around each other, faces almost glued together in unabashed kisses, tongues deep in other people's throats. The obnoxiously loud and unmelodious music pounded in Kurt's chest unpleasantly.

If he had been asking himself why he never went to these places, now he knew exactly why. In his smart Alexander McQueen pants, Yves Saint Laurent shirt and Prada tie, he stood out like a sore thumb. He kept on sipping his horrible semi-dry red wine, as he scanned the large room with disgruntlement. The look the bartender gave him as he asked for a glass of Bordeaux was already a telling sign it wasn't exactly Kurt's scene. Apparently, it didn't seem that a house full of men that liked men necessarily made a gay guy feel comfortable.

Kurt was just scanning the dance floor in a futile attempt to find someone as uneasy as himself – hey, he couldn't be the only one first timer here – as someone stopped next to him at the bar, his elbows propped carelessly on the counter.

'Not having fun?,' the guy yelled over the noise.

Kurt decided no one else was standing close enough to hear that, so he turned his head to see the man who addressed him. His breath hitched for a moment, as his eyes fell on probably the most beautiful creature that ever graced this place with his presence. A head of short dark curls, eyes – hazel? Maybe brown? – shaded by long eyelashes, from under which the guy peeked at Kurt. Almost seducing him with his gaze alone. The man's lips curved in a mischievous little smile.

'No, not really,' Kurt choked out as soon as he found his voice. The other guy seemed to be perfectly aware of the effect he had on Kurt.

'I'm Liam.' A hand reached out to Kurt, so he grabbed it hastily, almost spilling the reminder of his wine on his designer clothes.

'Kurt.'

'So, Kurt, I take it you're not a frequent visitor here,' Liam said, shifting to face the same way as Kurt, and he leaned his back on the counter. Kurt glanced at him furtively, taking in the shape of Liam's muscles clearly visible under the tank he was wearing. He had a button-down thrown carelessly over his shoulders, perfectly showing off his defined biceps, and his low-cut jeans let just the tiniest strip of skin and underwear peek out from above his belt.

'Um, no, it's actually my first time,' Kurt said finally. 'First time here, I mean, not first… You know what I mean.'

He could feel his cheeks burning, and hoped for the semi-darkness to hide his blush. Liam's chuckle seemed to indicate his hope was void.

'God, you're such a prude.' Liam turned back around and yelled to the bartender, 'Tequila shots, please!'

Before Kurt could stop it, a line of shot glasses filled with tequila was placed before the two of them.

'Come on, you gotta loosen up,' Liam said, pushing a glass in Kurt's direction.

Kurt accepted the drink with a sigh. Nothing could taste worse than that wine. He swung the glass, the liquid burning in his throat.

'Don't think that's gonna work!,' Kurt shouted at Liam, wincing. 'I guess I'd better go, I don't really think I fit in.'

Liam laughed again; Kurt didn't know whether he should feel offended or not. Next thing he knew, his new friend reached out to his tie and pulled it loose, then took to unfastening the first couple of buttons on his shirt. When Kurt thought the impromptu makeover was finished, Liam ruffled his painstakingly coiffed hair with his hand.

'Now you fit it.' Liam's eyes sparkled, as he lifted two glasses, pushing one into Kurt's hand and gulping down the contents of the other.

'Alright.' Maybe staying a while longer wouldn't hurt. 'So, Liam, what do you do?'

'Better ask me who I do,' Liam yelled back, causing Kurt's face to feel like it was on the verge of melting.

'God, can't you have a regular conversation in here?,' he asked frustrated, grabbing another shot glass.

'Okay, I'm a freelancer. In advertisement. You?'

'Fashion journalist,' Kurt said, forcing himself to look away and try to keep his mind clear. With that body around, it was a particularly tough task.

Tequila was richly poured and swallowed in quick gulps, making Kurt's head increasingly giddy. It also made talking to Liam slightly less intimidating, the booze lowering Kurt's inhibitions almost into non-existence.

After what seemed like the hundredth round, Kurt felt like he was going to really throw reason out the window and gravitated dangerously close to Liam's face. The pretty hazel eyes glinted as he looked up at Kurt, as if he was inviting his lips to touch his own. But that was so _totally not_ what Kurt was like. Making out with a random guy at a gay bar?

'Bathroom,' Kurt muttered to excuse himself and he hurried in the direction where he suspected the toilets were.

Once inside, he had to try very hard not to notice the feet and knees visible under stall doors and the moans of pleasure coming from within. Kurt jumped to the nearest sink and splashed his face with water to cool off and diminish the effects of alcohol at least a little bit. He wiped the moisture away from his eyes and blinked.

For a second he thought it was just a side-effect of the booze. Seeing things. But when he twirled around, catching the sink behind him to steady himself, there he was, sure enough real and tangible. And sexy as ever.

Only when Liam was standing right in front of him, barely any space left between them, Kurt noticed that the other man was slightly shorter, and his eyes were definitely a golden shade of hazel, the sparkles in them mesmerizing. It took Kurt a moment to realize he was staring at him with his mouth open. He closed it hastily, turning his eyes away.

Then Liam's finger was pushing Kurt's chin up, a crooked smile dancing in his lips, his other hand tracing down Kurt's left side right to the hip. Next thing Kurt knew, the hand was making its way unmistakably to his crotch.

He yelped, Liam's hand searching for Kurt's zipper, and they both could feel Kurt was already half-hard.

One more playful look of hazel and Liam was beginning to lower himself down onto his knees, there in the middle of the restroom.

Hazy thoughts were rushing through Kurt's head, as concern of being undignified and reduced to becoming the cliché of the guy who gets sucked off in the gay bar bathroom were fighting with how good it would feel to let go and just give in. After all, it wasn't every night that an absolute cutie wanted to blow him.

'Stop,' Kurt managed to choke out, as Liam's hand began to wander down his pants.

'What?'

'Stop. Please, just stop.' He could feels his cheeks burning again. God, he was going to regret this.

'Don't you want me to…?'

'I do, god, I really do, but… It's just not me. I'm so sorry.'

Kurt was feeling more and more stupid with every word he uttered, especially as the alcohol slurred his speech embarrassingly.

'That's too bad,' Liam said, getting up with a little difficulty. At least, Kurt wasn't the only one who wasn't sober.

'I'm really sorry,' Kurt mumbled one more time.

Liam chuckled, as he wobbled, his legs bucking a little under his weight.

'It's your loss, really.' He frowned a little, thinking. 'Give me your phone.'

'What?,' Kurt spattered, confused.

'Christ, I'm not gonna rob you. I'm just gonna give you my number.'

Kurt handed Liam his iPhone reluctantly, eyeing the guy carefully. He might have not been in the best condition to run, but he wanted to make sure he'd still have his cell when he left the bar.

'There. If you change your mind, call me.'

And with a wink, Liam turned around, his feet still unstable, and left Kurt in the middle of the bathroom with his zipper half-undone, his cell phone in his hand and unconsciously holding his breath.

* * *

**A/N:** I guess that since you're here, you have read the summary, and realise that Liam is one of Blaine's alters. (Guess it wasn't too hard to guess from his description...) He's also a little bit of a Brian Kinney wannabe, if you know what I mean.

This chapter was originally written as no more than a short thing that I had no good idea how to develop. But then I did figure out how I could do it, partly inspired by the great story _United States of Kurt_ by CountingCrow16. I will not follow any preexisting format, though (even though without _United States of Tara_, the show _USoK_ was loosely based on, I would never be able to write this).

The story will be generally AU, but events from before NBK will stay the same for Kurt. And don't expect it to be smutty. It's rated M mostly for the subject matter being mental illness and all. And because of Liam, 'cause he might be having a little fun here and there. Still, there will be nothing too explicit, simply because I am truly incapable of writing smut.

I'll try to keep the updates regular, but with _Unintended _still unfinished and stuff IRL, I can't promise anything. Let's say for now that I'll try to post a chapter a week.


	2. Chapter 2: Explanations

**Chapter 2: Explanations**

Kurt was one of those people who remember everything they were doing, no matter how drunk they got. He remembered every single tequila shot, every sentence uttered in the conversation. Every second of what went down in the bathroom. The mischievous sparkle in Liam's eyes. The presence of the guy's phone number in his cell. Just the way he remembered puking all over Ms Pillsbury's shoes sophomore year.

It took him two days to muster the courage to open his contacts and _almost_ press the call button to dial the number. His finger was still hovering over the screen long after it went dark.

The next day, he decided to screw it and call the guy. What did he have to lose? Apart from the terrible loneliness that was eating him from the inside out? He didn't have a line of men begging for a date with him. You would've thought he would, working in fashion and all that. But no. Zero. Nada. Null. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Everyone was either taken or chasing after models.

So what that the Liam guy seemed to be fucking everything that moved – and had a penis – Kurt wasn't really in a position to pick and choose. After all, Liam was totally hot, even if a bit of a man slut.

It was late morning, when Kurt finally got himself to call. He'd just put the finishing touches to the article he was preparing and was getting his second coffee. He was trying to convince himself he wasn't calling this early to maybe miss Liam. Though he definitely did consider the possibility that Liam could be unable to answer.

But sure enough, two beeps later, the call was picked up.

'Hello?,' said a voice that sounded very much like Liam's.

'Um, hi- I'm not sure you remember me- Um, it's Kurt,' he said hastily, his cheeks burning. He'd never done anything like this.

'Who?,' the other guy asked, confused.

Now Kurt was positive he had never been this embarrassed all his life.

'Um, we met at the- at the club a few days ago, but well, neither of us was sober, so…' His voice trailed off. All he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 'Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Liam.'

He was just about to end the call, when the person on the other side responded after a few seconds' pause.

'Wait! Did you say _Liam_?'

That was strange. Didn't he know his own name or what?

'Yeah… You said your name was Liam,' Kurt muttered, flabbergasted.

'That's a first,' the guy said as if to himself. 'Listen, Kurt, right? This may sound weird, but could you meet me? For lunch today, for example?'

Kurt definitely hadn't foreseen this kind of turn of events, but maybe Liam – or whoever he was – wanted to apologize or something. And it was lunch. In a public place, nothing bad could happen.

'Okay, fine.'

They quickly got the details for their meeting settled, as if the matter wasn't puzzling in the least.

'Um, so see you at one, Liam?,' Kurt asked.

'Actually, my name's Blaine,' came the awkward reply from the other end. 'I'll explain it all, I promise. And I hope you remember what I look like, because I can't say that I know that about you.'

'I'm not sure what to make of it,' Kurt said truthfully. The situation was getting more and more absurd by the second.

'I'll get to that, too, okay? It's just not… Not something to discuss over the phone.' He paused uncertainly for a moment, before adding, ' Did we- Did we have sex?'

Kurt almost choked at the word.

'No, no, we did not. You almost- But no, we did not do _that_.'

Blaine sighed with relief.

'Good. So I guess, see you later?

'Yeah. See you.'

* * *

Kurt entered the café where they agreed to meet just two minutes before one and took a look around. He scanned all the people in the room twice, before realizing that his eyes slid over Blaine as many times without recognizing him.

Even though on closer inspection it was obvious that the facial features and the hazel eyes were the same, Blaine's carefully gelled down hair, smart apparel and composed demeanour were as far from Liam's appearance and behavior as Jupiter is from the sun.

Just like Blaine had told him, he didn't recognize Kurt, until the latter came up to his table, his step and gaze nervous and uncertain.

'Hi, Blaine?'

'Oh, hi, you're Kurt, right?' In person his voice was still familiar, but seemed somewhat gentler than Liam's a few nights ago.

Blaine gestured for Kurt to sit down, which he did, settling gingerly on the edge of the chair.

'Okay, so what's your story?,' he asked, wanting nothing more than answers. 'Do you have an evil twin? A doppelganger?'

Blaine gave a little chuckle, but didn't sound amused.

'Not exactly.'

He was fiddling with a napkin and biting his lower lip. A minute passed by in silence, and a waitress slipped them menus.

'I was promised an explanation,' Kurt said, once she left.

'Could we order first?,' Blaine seemed to be buying time.

Kurt agreed reluctantly. He picked the first chicken salad he saw and waited not quite patiently until Blaine decided on a wrap. Their server came and went again, finally leaving them.

'So, who did I meet on Friday?,' Kurt demanded. 'Was it you or your doppelganger?'

'Both.'

Kurt's eyebrows shot up.

'Now I'm even more confused.' He stopped talking to smile politely at the waitress who brought them their drinks. 'There was just one you- or one Liam, whichever.'

'Liam is me, but I'm not Liam,' Blaine muttered, clearly uneasy. 'It's complicated.'

'What? Are you trying to con me? Or is this a joke?'

Blaine winced. So that stung him. Someone accusing him of lying. And that was definitely not a joke to him.

'Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?,' he asked with noticeable effort.

'I don't think so, no.'

'It's a- a mental disorder.'

Kurt frowned. So what, Liam was a psycho? Was that what Blaine was trying to tell him? That he was a psycho magnet?

'Like schizophrenia?,' Kurt asked, uncertain if his train of thought was the right one.

'No, not like schizophrenia,' Blaine answered; he seemed frustrated, as if he'd had a conversation like that many times before. Kurt couldn't have known he wasn't very far off the mark. 'I don't hear voices- I mean not like that. I have alters, and sometimes they- um, come out to play.'

Kurt shook his head astonished. _Blaine_ was the psycho here? The dapper, buttoned-up-to-the-neck, nice guy? Not the man whore from the club, Liam?

'Wait, what? You have _what_?'

'Alters. Alter egos. Alternative personalities. In a way they're me, but I can't control them, and they can very well control me,' Blaine explained.

That was probably the silliest question that he could ask, and certainly the most inappropriate one, but Kurt asked it anyway.

'Why?'

For a second he thought Blaine was going to explode into a million pieces, but then he composed himself.

'It just sometimes- happens. As a result of a traumatic experience.'

It was obvious he didn't want to go deeper into that, and why would he? Open up about a trauma to a complete jerk of a stranger who asked him something that private in the first place?

The waitress chose that moment to appear with their food and both took a few bites in quiet.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to pry,' Kurt muttered eventually. 'So… does this happen often?,' he asked after another moment of uncomfortable silence.

Blaine attempted a smile, but it turned out more of a grimace.

'Not a lot, but it's happened. Usually it's more awkward though,' he said.

The querying look on Kurt's face sufficed to prompt Blaine to elaborate.

'Usually I just wake up with some random guy that I'd never seen before in my life, and it gets… weird, when I have to tell them they didn't really sleep with me, but with my slut of an alter.' Blaine winced again.

Apparently, Liam was a troublemaker. Kurt was torn whether or not to be disappointed he didn't meet Blaine the way most of Liam's hook-ups met him. At least he'd have gotten laid and would've gotten his answers sooner. But then… The conversation was difficult as it was. What would it have to be like if they were naked and only one of them remembered having sex with the other?

'So Liam doesn't just give your number away on every street corner?,' he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It worked; this time Blaine's laughter sounded sincere.

'No. He must have liked you,' he said, his mouth pulling up at the corners.

Kurt could feel a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

'Thanks, I guess.'

'You're not his usual type, though,' Blaine added, an unexpected playfulness tingeing his voice.

Kurt frowned in slight confusion. 'Do I want to know what his type is?'

Blaine barked out a short laugh.

'I don't know. He's more into tanned guys with six-packs and cheesy highlights, so decide for yourself if you like this piece of information.'

'I'm nowhere near tanned, I don't have highlights… How do you know I don't have a six-pack?,' Kurt teased. It was strange how easy, despite everything that was going on, they were able to fall into this kind of light-hearted exchange. 'Blaine?,' he said warily, when the other guy stopped chuckling. 'Can I ask you something?'

'You just have, but yeah, shoot.'

Kurt swallowed, hoping his cheeks wouldn't turn bright red again.

'You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I know that Liam's gay, but- um- does that like- um- differ for you and your other alters?,' he said. He had never asked anyone about their sexuality this openly.

Blaine listened carefully, then stopped for a second to think of phrasing his answer.

'It does differ, but Liam and me – if we have something in common, it's that we're both male and gay,' he said.

Kurt's jaw dropped a little. His gaydar was good enough for him to already assume Blaine was most likely gay, but another piece of information took him by surprise.

'So… there are others that aren't male and gay?,' he asked. 'You don't have to tell me, if that's too private.'

'No, it's fine. And yes. My other alters are straight, as far as I can tell, and one of them is female.'

For a moment Kurt's mind was preoccupied by an image of Blaine in a dress and make-up. He had no idea if that was close to whatever the alter looked like, but it was strange to picture him as _her_.

'What's- uh- what's her name?'

'Kathryn.' He paused in hesitation for a half minute. 'You probably would've met her, if I wasn't on meds right now.'

God, why did he have to be so cryptic and confusing all the time? Like the multiple personalities weren't enough.

'You mean like- today?'

'Yeah. You asked why it is the way it is-' His voice trailed off and he took a few deep breaths. 'I'm guessing if I couldn't suppress it, she would've turned up.'

He shrugged, trying to dismiss what he'd just told Kurt. It was much more information than he'd ever given anyone he wasn't really close to, like his Grandma, Wes or Sebastian. Or his therapist.

Kurt studied Blaine for another moment, waiting for a continuation. None followed.

'Thanks for explaining it to me,' he said finally. 'I get it has to be hard for you to do this.'

Blaine smiled weakly.

'At least this time I got to be fully dressed and all.'

They finished their lunch talking about less serious matters. Kurt learned that Blaine was a musician and played in bars all over New York City. To both of theirs astonishment they found out they were both from Ohio, their hometowns a mere two-hour drive away from one another.

'It really was a pleasure meeting you, Blaine,' Kurt said when they were parting ways.

'Likewise,' Blaine replied with a smile. 'And thanks for not running away screaming when I told you I was crazy.'

Kurt shrugged his shoulders.

'Back in Lima, I got a lot of shit for being gay. You're gay and you're- um- you have a disorder, neither of which is your fault. I'm trying not to judge anyone too hastily.'

'Still, thanks.'

'You're welcome.'

Blaine extended his hand to Kurt who took it, shaking it gently, before they said their last goodbyes and went their separate ways.

* * *

**A/N:** So they really met, and don't worry, it's just the beginning!

And thanks for the follows, reviews and favs! I feel so blessed to have all of you out there reading my stuff! It's still unbelievable to me that anybody does.


	3. Chapter 3: Visits

**Chapter 3: Visits**

Blaine was fidgeting in the huge armchair in Dr. Peterson's office. The topic of their conversation had been getting on his nerves since he told her three weeks before he wanted new meds. Weaker ones. Even though the drugs he had been taking usually kept the alters at bay, Blaine felt they were driving him crazier than he already was. He was constantly sleepy, irritable, and his mood swings kept people at an even greater distance.

'How long did Liam stay around this time?,' Dr. Peterson asked. She was a middle-aged woman with rim-horned glasses perched on the tip of her nose, frizzy auburn hair and she had a thing for green and brown clothes. Blaine always had a feeling she had been a ninja somewhere in the jungle and she kept dressing in those colours out of habit to easily blend in with the trees.

'Several hours, nothing out of the ordinary,' he answered with a sigh. 'It's happened before, when I was medicated, Doc.'

She only answered with a nod and jotted something down in her notepad.

'Was he behaving the same way?'

'No,' Blaine said firmly.

'Did you experience co-consciousness with him?' Dr. Peterson's voice sounded a bit too excited for Blaine's taste.

'No. You know I never do with him.'

Blaine rolled his eyes, feeling this whole thing was getting really old. There hadn't been any progress in years. Almost from the moment he was finally properly diagnosed in high school. The medication did help a little, at least in terms of controlling the alters, but the therapy wasn't exactly successful. Maybe if the problem was discovering the reason behind Blaine's disorder, they would have made a few steps forward. Only they'd always known what the reason was.

'What was he doing, then?,' Dr. Peterson asked, never losing her curiosity. Her eagerness in asking questions was really annoying sometimes.

'He went out to the clubs, that was normal- I don't know exactly what happened there,' he said. 'But he gave this one guy his cell number- I mean, _my_ cell number.'

'Did that guy call Liam?' Dr. Peterson raised her eyebrows.

'He did.' The therapist stayed silent, so he went on. 'I met up with him and explained everything.'

Dr. Peterson spent a minute scribbling quietly, before raising her gaze back at Blaine.

'How was it?'

Blaine shrugged. 'Fine, I guess. He took it better than they normally do. I think he even took it better than Wes did the first time I told him.'

'Did you like him?'

The out of the blue question made him frown.

'What does it have to do with anything?'

'I thought you wanted to be on weaker meds, because you felt lonely and wanted to get out and maybe find someone,' she replied calmly.

'I do, but do I really have to fling myself at some guy that Liam seemed to like?'

She sent him a sad smile.

'Of course, you don't have to. But you did like him, too, didn't you?'

'Okay, maybe I did,' Blaine sighed. 'It doesn't matter, anyway.'

* * *

It had been over a week since Kurt met Blaine, and he was beginning to forget the whole affair whatsoever. A random thought of the night at the club or the lunch would pop into his head from time to time, usually accompanied by a sigh of regret. Why couldn't he just meet a regular guy that would be interested in him? If only he met Blaine under different circumstances and the guy didn't have that freaky disorder… He really could picture himself with Blaine. For some weird reason, he even found himself imagining the two of them as a couple once, but pushed the thought away in haste.

There was really no way Blaine would ever want to see Kurt again, like he probably never wanted to see any of Liam's hook-ups. And even if he did, why would anybody choose to be with someone living with a disease like this?

By next Monday, Kurt was over this kind of thoughts. He was coming to terms with the possibility of having to get old alone, and started considering getting a cat. Or a dozen of them.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, just as he was getting on the train back home, however, he received the strangest text in his life. At first, he frowned, seeing Liam's name on his cell phone screen. He'd forgotten to change it to Blaine's, and didn't even think of deleting it. His frown only deepened, when he opened the message.

It held nothing more than an address. He didn't know the street name, so he ran a quick Google search on his phone to find out it was a residential building (he'd figured as much by the apartment number), only several streets away from his own apartment in Bushwick. It was confusing. Why would Blaine text him this address? Presumably _his_ address? Or was it Liam? Or Kathryn? Or… whatever the others' names were?

The only explanation that sprang to his mind that _sort of_ made sense, was that something was wrong and Blaine simply didn't have anyone else to turn to. Kurt couldn't remember him mention anybody close, so there was a chance that was the case. With people's attitudes being the way they are, even in New York City, it had to be hard to keep people around. It was impossible not to feel bad for Blaine.

Kurt took another glance at the map of Brooklyn and checked the subway stations. Getting to the address would take switching the train a couple of times, but he didn't mind. The decision was made.

It wouldn't hurt him – hopefully – to check up on Blaine, and at least his conscience would let him sleep at night. Otherwise, he wouldn't even know if he hadn't ignored a cry for help.

* * *

Kurt soon realized he should've gotten off at the previous station. He walked the six blocks briskly, paying close attention to the numbers on the buildings. Finding the right one was easy.

It was a nice three-storey house in a apparently pleasant neighbourhood. It suited Blaine, but Kurt expected to Liam to feel a little out of place here. He opened the front door hesitantly, taking a peek inside before walking in. The hallway was quiet and completely empty. A quick scan of the doors leading to the first floor apartments let him know he'd guessed right that he'd have to go a storey up. He jogged up a flight of stairs, and stopped, before proceeding to where he thought he'd find apartment 2B.

Once he made it to the door, he paused with his hand half-raised. The door was remarkably unremarkable. Behind it could leave a middle-aged accountant, or an exclusive call-girl, or a single mother with a toddler. Or a twenty-something guy with a mental illness. Kurt shivered at the thought of what he might find inside. Would anyone even answer? Should he be worried? God, of course he should. If Blaine wanted to see him, plain and simple, he'd call or send a regular text. Or would he? A million thoughts came crashing on Kurt with the speed of lightning, and he shook his head to clear it.

He wouldn't turn away now. His mind was made up. He'd made it up long ago. Whatever was waiting for him on the other side, he was going to face it. Now he wasn't even sure he ever really had a choice.

His hand trembled as he rang the bell, its shrill sound perfectly audible from the inside. It took a couple of seconds for some shuffling and footsteps to follow, and for the door to open.

'Yes?,' the young man who opened the door asked. It wasn't Blaine or any of his alters. He looked curiously, but politely at Kurt.

'I- I'm Kurt- I'm looking for Blaine,' he stammered in response.

The guy raised his eyebrows, a hint of realization in his eyes.

'Come on in,' he said, stepping out of the way to let him pass. 'I'm Wes, Blaine's roommate. The nicer one.'

Kurt frowned, but crossed the threshold. So there were roommates? Blaine didn't say anything about roommates. Apparently, there was someone to take care of him. Why the text, then? The constant unknowing and confusion were unnerving.

'Sorry, he didn't say he had roommates,' he mumbled finally, as Wes led him into the kitchen space which was divided from a cramped living room by a high counter.

Another guy, tall and a little lanky was sitting at the counter with a mug of coffee and some papers. He raised his eyes at the other two.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, it's just I got this text from Blaine- or one of his- um- alters?,' Kurt hesitated at the word. Obviously, Blaine's roommates had to be aware of his disorder, but he didn't want to come off as insensitive.

'Oooh, so you're Liam's boy candy from last weekend,' the guy at the counter said.

Kurt's cheeks turned flaming red, making the author of the remark smirk. Wes rolled his eyes, and then glared at his roommate.

'That's Sebastian, the not-so-nice roommate,' he introduced him. 'Seb, this is Kurt, be nice, please.'

'So- um- is Blaine home?,' Kurt asked hurriedly. He didn't want to stay if everything was alright and this whole trip was just a huge overreaction on his part.

Wes and Sebastian exchanged a look. The latter lost a little of his good humour.

'Kinda,' he said.

Kurt was just about to ask what Sebastian meant, but the message clicked in his brain before he managed a word out.

'Oh. Who _is_ home then?'

Wes gestured Kurt to walk into the living room and sit on the couch. He obeyed silently, his gaze never leaving the other man, who sat opposite him in an armchair.

'Actually, we don't really know,' Wes said. 'I mean, he's asleep now, so it's hard to tell who it's gonna be when he wakes up.'

Kurt nodded understandingly. 'But someone else turned up before, right?,' he ventured a guess.

'How much exactly did he tell you?,' Wes asked.

'Not much,' he replied carefully. 'Well, I've met Liam, obviously. Blaine said there were others… He mentioned Kathryn?' Both roommates acknowledged it with nods. 'Was it her? Or Liam?'

Sebastian glanced at Wes with worry, before leaving the room quickly. A door somewhere down the corridor creaked.

'There's a lot he didn't tell you, you know that?'

'I do,' Kurt said, his throat suddenly clenching.

'He didn't tell you how many of them there were?' Kurt shook his head no. 'So I'm not going to tell you either. This has to be something he tells you, if he so sees fit. I'll just tell you that today's been pretty bad.'

Kurt's heart was pounding, nauseating. His instinct was right and he really hated that. 'How bad?,' he asked weakly.

'All of them showed up.'

There was no way for Kurt to suppress the expression of shock that came onto his face, just as Sebastian returned to the room.

'He's still sleeping,' he said.

'Good, he should rest,' Wes sighed.

For a second they seemed to have forgotten Kurt was still there.

'Did something- like- um- trigger that?,' he asked warily, aware that he was probably crossing some line or other.

Wes pursed his lips, but Sebastian wasn't as unwilling to share.

'His dad called, and that's never pretty.' He shrugged his shoulders.

Kurt decided not to ask any more questions, but Wes seemed to remember he had one of his own.

'Hey, Kurt, you were saying something about a text?'

Deciding it was better to give them something more than empty words, Kurt pulled out his phone and opened the text from earlier.

'I got this from him today,' he said, handing Wes his iPhone. 'Or from Liam, I don't know who that was.'

'I think it was Liam,' Wes said, frowning and analyzing the time stamp. 'It's weird, though. This really isn't good.' That last sentence was directed to Sebastian, who only shrugged one more time.

'You know you won't convince him,' Seb replied. 'And if his doc agreed to try it this way, he has to bear with it. We all do.'

Kurt had no idea, what to make of their exchange. Apart from the piece of information that was glaringly clear: Blaine was in a very bad shape. If he ever regretted coming, he stopped in this particular moment.

Wes turned back to face him. Kurt hadn't noticed earlier, but he looked exhausted.

'Do you want to wait until he wakes up?,' he asked.

Without taking a second to consider it, Kurt nodded.

* * *

**A/N: **Just a couple of things I guess I should make clear:

First off, I'm not a psychologist or a psychiatrist, or a therapist of any sort, the only training in psychology I've had was an introductory university course a couple of years back. So when it comes to the medical and psychological stuff, this fic may be glaringly inaccurate. (I still believe a relative of mine was misdiagnosed with schizophrenia, and in actuallity she suffers from DID, but it's a different story altogether). But I'm trying to be truthful about the illness, I only lack the expertise I wish I had.

And second, I've never been to New York (America in general), so - again - any description of the city is all improvisation based on things I've seen or read, and also the immensely helpful thing that is Google Maps (and Street View!).

And in case you didn't know (or don't remember), I probably should tell you (or remind you), that any linguistic curiosities in my writing stem from the fact that English isn't my native language.

Last, but not least, thanks for any and all feedback!


	4. Chapter 4: Stay

**Chapter 4: Stay**

The apartment was eerily quiet. If Kurt didn't know better, he'd be sure everyone slipped out, leaving him alone. But he was aware that Blaine's roommates simply wanted their friend to get a chance to rest.

He was still a little bit incredulous that they let him sit there for the last three hours and left him there alone, apparently not worrying he could rob them or anything of the sort. He was grateful for that, but at the same time, he was becoming increasingly nervous.

There he was, sitting for going on four hours in a stranger's living room, waiting for said stranger to wake up after a terrible day of getting his body hijacked by his alternative personalities. How was Blaine going to react to Kurt? What if he'd completely forgotten having met him? What if he really hoped to never see him again? What if the text was all Liam? Liam was decidedly hot and all, but Blaine was… Blaine.

When he'd just figured out he'd been there for over four hours and it was probably time to leave, a door creaked somewhere in the apartment. Kurt's body stiffened, alert. His heartbeats were deafening in his ears.

The person that appeared in the door of the living room a few seconds later was certainly Blaine. Or at least the body was Blaine's. His right hand was firmly clasped on an arm of a stuffed Winnie the Pooh toy that had definitely seen better times, while he was rubbing his eyes with his left. Once he looked up, his gaze still hazy from sleep, he hugged Winnie defensively to his chest, a scared look on his face.

'No, no, easy, Bl… sweetie, I'm Kurt, I'm- Blaine's friend,' Kurt hurried to say, jumping to his feet a little too quickly and making the alter cringe back. 'Sweetie, it's okay,' he added gently.

The Blaine-shaped child slowly dropped his arms, never letting go of the toy completely, as if it was sown to his hand. Kurt sat back down on the couch and patted the space next to him. With a mixture of fear and timidity, the child took a few klutzy steps towards Kurt, and flopped unexpectedly heavily on the cushions.

'What's your name?,' Kurt asked, trying to be as delicate and careful as possible.

The child pursed his lips for a moment, pulling Winnie close to his chest again.

'Boo,' he finally answered in a childish, squeaky voice.

Kurt didn't know what else to say. Not long ago he was almost getting sucked off by the same person who was now sitting next to him, clutching a stuffed bear and acting like a shy toddler. The experience was surreal.

_They are not the same_, Kurt told himself. _There's Blaine, who's nice and sweet, and adorable. There's Liam, who's a slut, a sexy, inappropriate slut. And there's Boo, who's… _He took another look at Boo. _Who's a scared little boy._

Kurt inhaled deeply. He had probably no more than one chance of earning Boo's trust and he didn't want to fuck this up.

'Winnie, huh?,' he asked, pointing at the toy. 'Is he your favourite?'

Boo raised his large, innocent eyes up at Kurt and nodded solemnly.

'Yes,' he whispered, hugging Winnie tighter.

'You wouldn't want to lose him.' It was a statement.

Boo shook his head and yawned hugely.

'Do you wanna sleep?,' Kurt asked gently.

Another nod and Boo rubbing his eyes again told him yes.

'You can lie down here next to me with Winnie, and I'll make sure you're both safe.'

Kurt gave Boo a small encouraging smile. After a moment of hesitation, Blaine's alter pulled his feet up to the couch an curled into an embryo position, surprising Kurt by putting his head in his lap. Kurt stiffened for a moment, before realizing it could make Boo think he didn't want him there, so he forced his muscles to relax. Trying not to disturb the boy, he reached to the other end of the couch to snatch a blanket that laid there folded neatly into a rectangle, and wrapped it around Boo's body.

It didn't take more than a few minutes for Boo's breath to even out. He never stopped holding on to Winnie so tightly that had the toy ever been alive, he would've strangled it.

Kurt didn't dare move an inch at first, worried Boo would wake up and get scared or something. There really was no way to foresee what would happen if he woke. But once Kurt was quite sure the boy was soundly asleep, he ran his fingers lightly over Blaine's curls. Having his hair unrestrained by gel made him look more youthful and the locks were soft to the touch. Kurt thought he could keep his hands in them forever.

He was so busy staring down at the boy in his lap, those long dark eyelashes and slightly puckered lips, that Kurt didn't notice Wes walking back into the room.

'I see you've met Boo,' he said in a hushed voice. He sounded a little like a loving father.

'How do you-?,' Kurt started, but a quick wave of Wes' hand at Winnie sufficed for an answer. 'Oh. Yes. He doesn't seem to be very talkative, though.'

'He's not, he barely says anything,' Wes said. 'The others say he's just shy and scared of people.'

Kurt frowned; that was another piece of information he didn't expect.

'The others talk about- each other?,' he asked. 'They're _aware_ of each other?'

Wes nodded slowly. 'Yeah, they know. They know they're there for Blaine and they're very protective of Boo, especially Kathryn. But they also kinda think they're real, separate beings.'

Kurt looked back down at Blaine. He hadn't even noticed he'd been stroking the curls all along and his hand stopped suddenly. This was weird, wasn't it?

'Do you wanna stay here? Or do you have somewhere to be?,' Wes asked quietly, seeing a confused look enter Kurt's face.

'I-,' Kurt said. 'I don't want to wake him, so… Is it okay if I stay?'

'Sure.' Wes smiled kindly. 'He'll be happy to see you.'

'You mean- Boo, Blaine or Liam?'

Wes chuckled quietly.

'Blaine. I mean Blaine.' His face turned serious. 'If he's the one who turns up when he wakes.' He sent Blaine a worried look. 'I'm gonna go crash. If you need me, my room's at the end of the hallway.'

Kurt gave him a nod of acknowledgement, before realizing he probably should freak out. He swallowed hard, as he watched Wes leave the room.

* * *

An hour later Kurt was beginning to doze off, his hand still buried in the dark curls, so the second Blaine stirred, he noticed, sleepiness leaving him immediately.

Blaine sat up, releasing Winnie from his grip and sliding from out of Kurt's caressing hand. For a second it was obvious he didn't know what was going on. He groaned, when Winnie came into his line of vision. Boo's appearance made it clear why he didn't remember much from the day and why it was already night. And then he noticed his pillow. Or what had served him as a pillow. A pair of slim knees, a lap. Not Wes' or Sebastian's, that was obvious. He'd already seen those from up close a couple of times after some of Boo's visits.

He raised his eyes very slowly, not entirely certain he wanted to see who it was.

'Kurt?,' he asked, his hands automatically reaching to flatten his hair. 'What- What are you doing here?'

Kurt exhaled, relieved. He wasn't even aware he'd been holding his breath. At least he wasn't dealing with another alter. He wasn't quite sure he was ready for this just yet. God, and who said he would _ever_ meet another one? Blaine could throw him out before he would manage to say "Sorry for overstaying my welcome".

'I was babysitting Boo,' he said stupidly, but Blaine relaxed a little.

'Oh. And it didn't freak you out?,' Blaine asked, picking up Winnie and putting him neatly on the couch next to him.

'A little, at first,' Kurt admitted. 'But then he just slept, so it didn't even feel like he was someone other than… you.'

He could feel a blush coming up to his face. But he wasn't the only one who felt a little awkward.

'How did you even get here?,' Blaine asked finally.

'Someone texted me this address,' Kurt said with a shrug. 'Liam, I guess. So I figured something might be wrong and I came.'

Blaine's jaw dropped. A sudden urge to pinch himself came upon him and he almost gave in. A guy he liked, an amazing, kind, hot guy cared for him enough to come and check up on him after meeting him – the real _him_ – once. He didn't have to, but he did. He knew about Blaine's disorder, but he still came. He knew and stayed.

He knew and didn't run away from Blaine. He ran _to_ him.

The realization swept Blaine off his feet for a moment.

'I- um-,' he stammered. 'Thank you.'

Kurt managed a small smile.

'You're welcome,' he said, shifting in his seat into a more comfortable position, 'So- How are you feeling?'

Blaine fell back to the cushions, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

'I don't know. Tired.' He paused and thought back to what Kurt had told him earlier. 'Wait. So you were babysitting Boo, but _Liam_ texted you?'

'I _think_ it was Liam,' Kurt corrected him. 'I don't know if the others know you have my phone number. Or if they know who I am. And I don't think Boo can text.'

'I'm not even sure he can read.' Blaine shrugged. 'Did anybody else show up?'

Kurt hesitated. He wasn't positive how much he was allowed to know.

'Wes said they all did,' he replied carefully, keeping a close eye on Blaine's expression as it turned to one of despair.

'Do you know- How long did they stay?,' Blaine asked, as soon as he collected himself enough to form a question without his voice breaking or failing entirely.

'I don't know, you were- or Boo was- asleep when I came.'

'When was that?'

Kurt looked at the screen of his phone and quickly calculated the time.

'Almost six hours ago.'

Blaine's heart seemed to be trying to break free from his chest, explode and melt all at the same time. He didn't know how to call this feeling; was it gratefulness? Or maybe he was simply falling in love? Dangerously, blindly falling for the first guy who noticed _him_, not Liam, not his illness. Him. Blaine Devon Anderson. The guy with DID. The nutcase.

Only Kurt didn't look at him like he was a crazy person.

Kurt looked at him with sympathy and concern, the depth of which reminded him of the only other person that ever looked at him similarly. The only person that never doubted him and never let him down. The only person that never stopped loving him unconditionally and never lost her temper with him, no matter what kind of crap any of the alters pulled.

He hadn't seen anyone look at him like that since that last visit to Ohio before she died the year before.

And now there was Kurt, looking at him in the same way as his grandmother used to, but differently at the same time. Yet somehow, it was exactly the way Blaine longed for someone to look at him. He hadn't even realized it until now, but once he did, it was blatantly clear.

Blaine was staring and Kurt finally dropped his gaze, feeling silly for staying.

'Sorry, I think I should go,' he mumbled, getting up.

A hand grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him. That was the last thing Kurt was expecting.

'Stay, please,' Blaine said quietly, hastily recoiling his hand.

'Do you really want me to?,' Kurt asked, his voice matching Blaine's in volume.

'Yes.'

Without another word, Kurt sat back down. He couldn't find a rational explanation why he would want to stay in the first place. But this strange, unexpected _need_ seemed to keep him in place. Even if he did leave, his mind would stay behind with Blaine.

By now he stopped even thinking of Blaine as a sick person. It wasn't Blaine and his disorder. It was simply Blaine. Or rather Blaine and every fragment of his personality. Just something he was. Kurt was beginning to see the alters the way people usually see annoying traits in others. No matter how much you try, they won't go away, so it's best to get used to them. And, with a huge wave of astonishment, Kurt discovered he was fine with it. It was scary, probably the most terrifying thing he'd ever had to deal with, but he was willing to try. Kurt wanted to throw caution to the wind and for once try to get what he wanted. Even if Blaine didn't want him, he could always use another friend.

It was a decision made in haste and with his mind clouded by the confusion of everything that had happened within the last couple of weeks. Somehow, though, it seemed to him as reasonable as deciding to have cereal for breakfast. So natural it couldn't be wrong.

They stayed silent for a while, Kurt coming to terms with the consequences he could face in the future, Blaine trying to grasp everything that was happening, everything he was certain would never happen to him. They were sitting on the couch, awkward and expecting the other to make the first move, bodies carefully kept separate.

Finally, their furtive glances met and the eye contact didn't break.

'Could you- Could you hold me?, Blaine asked, his lower lip trembling slightly from the fear of rejection. He wasn't sure he'd survive if Kurt's answer was no.

Kurt didn't say anything, he only extended his arm, inviting Blaine to curl up to his side, and Blaine obeyed, putting his head on Kurt's shoulder.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this safe or this far from transitioning. Kurt's arms kept him securely in touch with reality that for once he didn't need or want to abandon.

* * *

**A/N: **The update's early kinda because of one miss jayne76... It's totally your fault, sweetie.

If your wondering why Boo's called Boo and why he's carrying around Winnie the Pooh, be patient. I'll hopefully get around to telling that piece of the story.


	5. Chapter 5: Decision

**Chapter 5: Decision**

When Kurt woke up, he could feel someone wrapped over him. It had been a while since that happened, so at first he was surprised. Until he recalled the events of the previous night and his eyelids flew open.

Blaine was lying snuggled to Kurt's chest, clutching at his shirt and ruffling it miserably. Somehow, in the course of the night, Kurt slid all the way to a lying position, with his legs still resting on the floor, and he was beginning to grasp just how uncomfortable it was. But as much as he was sure he should be upset, he couldn't help his lips twitching up at the sight of the peaceful face rested just below his shoulder.

He managed to get to his phone without disturbing Blaine, ignored the dozen of texts Rachel had sent him during the night, and discovered it was already past eight. The quiet groan he let escape his lips, though, was enough for Blaine to stir awake.

With a frown pulling his eyebrows together, Blaine studied Kurt's chest for a moment. Eventually, he lifted his eyes with a mixture of embarrassment, disbelief and worry.

'Hi,' Kurt said warily.

'Hi.' Blaine looked him in the eye tentatively, before dropping his gaze again to Kurt's wrinkled outfit. 'Um- I was asleep all night, right? Liam didn't show up or anything?'

Kurt shook his head. 'No, you slept like a baby. Um- you know what I mean,' he added.

Slowly, Blaine untangled himself from Kurt, careful for his hands not to wander anywhere inappropriate.

'Good. I wouldn't want to- screw this up,' he muttered. 'I mean, it would be weird.'

'It would,' Kurt agreed, sitting up. He tried to smooth out his clothes, but it was pointless. 'I need to get going.'

Blaine could swear there was a tinge of regret in Kurt's voice and almost let himself hope he was right and the guy really didn't want to leave him.

'Work?,' he asked.

'Yeah, I'm gonna be late as it is,' Kurt said, wincing, but didn't leave the couch. 'Are you okay?'

Blaine's head jerked up.

'Yes, I guess I am.' He smiled faintly, still not quite believing what had happened the previous night. 'Thanks for staying.'

'You're welcome.' Kurt bit his lower lip in hesitation. 'Would you mind if I called you later? To check up on you?'

Blaine's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He was starting to think all of this had never happened, and he was dreaming. He fell asleep the previous afternoon and his mind was playing nasty tricks on him.

'Why would I mind?,' he said. 'It's not like a ton of people really care.'

He really didn't mean to say that. But for some reason, telling Kurt stuff like that came as easily as breathing.

Kurt didn't know how to respond. The confession caught him by surprise; even though for some reason Blaine seemed not to have a lot of people around him, Kurt wouldn't expect him to acknowledge that in front of a stranger. And he still was nothing but a stranger.

'I'll call you,' he said, finally forcing himself to stand up. 'And if you ever need someone, I'm a phone call away.'

Kurt thought he had never seen anyone as grateful as Blaine was in that moment.

* * *

Never before had Kurt been twenty minutes late for work. He hated tardiness and required even more from himself than from others when it came to punctuality. This time, though, the only thing that bothered him about it was how little it bothered him.

He was rushing to his cubicle in the fashion section office, crossing his fingers his boss hadn't noticed he was late, as he noticed a crimson blur of motion in his peripheral vision. He swore under his breath, before plastering his best ass-kissing kind of smile on his face and turning to his boss.

'Good morning, Rose!,' he said, adding a little too much enthusiasm to his tone. 'Any special tasks for today? Maybe I could go down to Starbucks and get you a coffee? Or a muffin?'

'Well, hello, Kurt,' his boss answered, examining his apparel thoroughly and raising an eyebrow. 'I'll pass on the muffin, but I could use a coffee. And I guess that so could you, am I right?'

Kurt's jaw dropped a fraction.

'What are you talki-'

'No one in the fashion section comes to work in the same clothes two days in a row, unless…,' she paused dramatically.

'Unless?'

Rose smirked at him. 'Unless they got lucky.'

'I _did not_ get lucky,' Kurt groaned.

'Someone definitely didn't like that shirt on you,' she said, pointing to the wrinkled item of clothing.

Kurt rolled his eyes at her, as he turned to switch the computer on his desk on.

'It's not like that.'

'But you didn't make it home last night,' Rose stated. 'Who is he?'

Kurt couldn't believe he was having this conversation with his boss, but on the other hand, he'd heard her talk to other people like that. He simply had never had anything to tell her about his love life. There hadn't been any love life to speak of since before he started working there.

'He's just a friend. An acquaintance really,' he said firmly.

'You slept with a friend. An acquaintance, sorry.' Rose smiled at him mischievously. 'Kurt Hummel, I did not peg you for this type of guy.'

Kurt was beginning to feel really annoyed. He couldn't quite decide what upset him more; the idea that his boss was so eager to talk to him about his sex life, or the fact that to some extent he regretted nothing happened between him and Blaine.

'I didn't _sleep_ with him,' he insisted. 'I mean, we slept. As in actually _slept_. In clothes.'

'Right. If you say so.' She started walking back to her office. 'Just so you know, _I_ wouldn't judge you if you had slept with him. And now, go get that coffee.'

* * *

Finally, with coffee and an oatmeal muffin in his system, Kurt decided it was time to get back to his best friend and roommate. He would've guessed Rachel was worried about him even without the collection of worried texts she spammed his inbox with. At least it gave him an opportunity to get a bit of revenge for her forgetting to tell him whenever she stayed over at Brody's (he still couldn't grasp how that relationship hadn't turned to shit yet; deep down Kurt was constantly keeping his fingers crossed that Rachel would one day become his sister-in-law after all).

He dialed her number lazily, cherishing the still peaceful office.

'Kurt, finally!,' she said immediately after picking up. 'Where have you been? I was beginning to think you got abducted by aliens!'

'Hello to you, too, Rachel,' he greeted her. 'And no, I'm still on planet Earth, no aliens or spaceships were involved.'

'Are you going to tell me what _was_ involved, though?,' she asked, and he could hear she wasn't past being upset yet.

'Um- Do you remember Blaine?'

Rachel was quiet for a second, clearly searching her mind for the right person to attach the name to.

'Was it that model that threw a fit some time ago at a photoshoot?,' she tried guessing.

'No, that was _Blake_, Rache. I mean Blaine- you know, the guy with DID?' Kurt winced; he hated calling Blaine that, it seemed like reducing him to his illness and nothing else.

'Oh, you mean the crazy guy from the club, now I remember,' she said. 'Wait, did you sleep with him?!'

Kurt couldn't help but groan.

'First off, Rachel, he's not crazy, he's got a _disorder_, and second, not in the sense you have in mind.'

'Not in the sense- What?,' she asked.

'I was at his place, and he- we kinda slept together. Fell asleep together, I mean. In clothes,' he explained. He gave her more details, and surprisingly, she didn't even interrupt him as much as he expected she would.

'So… Are you two like- an item now?' Rachel's voice was wary. She didn't know what to think about this in the slightest. It seemed like Kurt was jumping into a hundred-feet-deep swimming pool without knowing how to keep his head above water.

'God, Rache, no,' he replied impatiently. 'I mean, I kinda- hope we'll get there, but- No, we're not.'

When she didn't speak for a full half minute, he could swear she was making a worried face on the other end of the line.

'Are you sure about this? You barely even know him,' she said eventually.

'As sure as I can be. He still may want to have nothing to do with me, so don't worry in advance, okay?'

Rachel sighed; Kurt could be terribly stubborn and she was perfectly aware that no matter what she told him, he wouldn't change his mind.

'If so, ask him out.'

'What?,' Kurt asked. He wouldn't have expected Rachel to support him without some more attempts at persuasion.

'You heard me, you like him, so ask him out. This is how it works, you know.'

* * *

It was strange going back there. The last twenty four hours were some of the strangest in his life, and he had a feeling it was going to stay like that for a while. In a way, he welcomed that and was grateful for it.

This time, the hall outside the door to apartment 2B wasn't as quiet as the day before. A faint sound of guitar and humming could be heard from inside, making Kurt's face light up. He couldn't be sure, but he guessed it was Blaine. In support of that conclusion, the moment Kurt rang the bell, the music stopped and someone trod up to the door.

It was clear Blaine was surprised to see Kurt on his doorstep, smiling sheepishly at him, still in the same clothes he was wearing the previous day. Only Kurt couldn't tell whether the surprise was a nice or a nasty one.

'I- I thought you were gonna call,' Blaine stammered.

'I was,' Kurt nodded, his smile fading, replaced by a sudden anxiousness. 'There's just something… May I come in?'

Blaine stepped out of the way, letting him in. He had been looking at his phone all day, every five minutes, hoping Kurt would call, but he would never, in a million years expect him to show up like that, second day in a row.

They entered the living room, Blaine quickly picking up his discarded acoustic guitar and gesturing for Kurt to sit down on the couch, which he did tentatively, twining his fingers together in his lap.

'So, how are you today?,' Kurt asked, casting a quick glance at Blaine, who was still standing uncertainly in the middle of the room.

'Fine, thanks. Better than I remember being without meds in years, actually.' Blaine bit his lip; he was sharing too much again.

Kurt knitted his brows. 'Without meds?,' he asked quietly.

'Yeah, I wanted to switch to milder stuff, but it wasn't working out as well as I hoped- you know, Liam showing up the other night when you met him- so my therapist suggested we see what it's be like if I were off completely for a while. So I'm off my meds.' He could feel heat rising to his face, and expected for Kurt to freak out or look at him with pity, but no such thing happened. Kurt was still watching him with earnest interest and a little worry.

'How has it been working out so far?,' he asked.

Blaine shrugged with one shoulder, dropping his gaze to the floor.

'You know, there have been ups and downs. But it hasn't been as bad as I feared for a second it would be.' He paused, looking back up to Kurt. 'And last night- I really haven't felt this stable in ages, if ever. So thank you.'

'My pleasure,' Kurt replied with a smile. There was something extremely rewarding in hearing he made Blaine feel better.

They fell silent for a moment, each nervous for different reasons.

'I can't stay long today,' Kurt said unexpectedly. 'I gotta get home, change, take a shower, I'm really gross right now. I just wanted to ask you something.'

Blaine stiffened; questions could be uncomfortable like hell. He knew it well enough through all of his experiences with his alters.

'Yeah?,' he managed to say.

'I was just wondering if you would, um- consider going out to dinner with me?,' Kurt asked, forcing his eyes to stay fixed at Blaine's face.

The astonishment in his expression was blatant. Kurt could just as well be admitting to be a bloodthirsty vampire, and Blaine wouldn't be more shocked.

'Are you- Are you _asking me out_? On a _date_?,' he said incredulously.

'Um- You don't have to say yes, I just- Sorry, I didn't mean to assume anything,' Kurt muttered, standing up hastily and turning to the door. 'I gotta go. Call me, if you ever need anything, okay?'

Blaine froze for just long enough for Kurt to leave the room.

'Wait!,' he called after him. 'Kurt, wait!'

He was almost at the door, when Blaine caught up with him, his eyes pleading.

'Yes, I'll go on a date with you,' he blurted out. 'I'd love to.'

Relief came over Kurt, washing embarrassment and anxiety off him and replacing them with a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

'Really?'

'Of course.' Blaine forced himself to smile, despite the dizzying pounding in his ears and the panic that was an inch from setting in. It was probably better not to try fooling Kurt about his lack of experience in romance. 'Only, Kurt-'

'Yes?'

'I've never been on a date.'

For a second Kurt thought Blaine was kidding. How was that possible? A decidedly attractive guy in his early twenties had never been on a date? But then he realized that Blaine wasn't exactly the average attractive twenty-something guy.

'Then I'll try not to screw up your first one,' Kurt said with the faintest shadow of a smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you all for all the great feedback I've been getting for this story. I've neglected writing it in the last week, because I've been consumed by getting some big chapters done for _Unintended_, but I'm going back to writing _Puzzle Pieces_ when I'm done with that one.


	6. Chapter 6: Handling the Unexpected

**Chapter 6: Handling the Unexpected**

They agreed to set their date for Friday night. It was just enough time for Kurt to make a reservation at his favourite little, ridiculously romantic Italian restaurant – because, seriously, who doesn't like Italian? – and pick the perfect outfit.

It was not long enough, however, for Blaine to put a dam on all the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. A mixture of incredulity, nervousness and petrifying fear of rejection held him close to the edge through the days of waiting.

Kurt didn't fail to call and text Blaine in the meantime. Without even mentioning the alters or DID, he managed to find out that none of the personalities paid a visit and each day he felt less anxious about the probability that he and Blaine would last. Yet despite any fears and concerns that he had in regard to the potential relationship, there were very few things in his life that he would be as sure about. There was no doubt that he had never been this excited for a date, or this hopeful about the guy actually liking him back.

He could sense Rachel's worried glances on him whenever he wasn't looking, but he chose to ignore that at first. He knew perfectly well what his best friend would tell him, and he really did not want to listen.

Ignoring Rachel Berry, however, had the tendency of backfiring on the ignoring party, as Kurt should have been aware by now.

'Kurtie, you're really, absolutely sure about this?,' she asked, watching him fix his tie in front of his tall mirror on Friday afternoon.

'Aren't you supposed to be in rehearsal or something?,' he answered with a question. 'I'm a grown-up, Rachel, I can make my own decisions. And, may I remind you, you kinda told me to asked him out, so don't make me feel bad about this now.'

'I was in rehearsal until three, thank you very much,' she retorted. 'And yes, you are a grown-up, but do you even know what it's like to be with someone who's cr- mentally ill?'

Kurt turned to glare at her.

'Do you?'

'No, Kurt, but that's the point. I don't, and neither do you!'

He sighed heavily, seeing she wasn't going to simply give up.

'Rache, of course I don't know what it's like and sure, it's going to be tough as hell. And maybe it's not even worth the effort, 'cause I still barely even know him. But I won't know until I try to be with him, and I really am sure about this.'

Rachel looked him in the eye for a moment, unable to ignore the fear she could see lurking behind her friend's excitement and hope. Finally, she nodded.

'If this is what you want.'

'It is,' he said. 'Anyway, it's only a date. Don't expect wedding invitations just yet.'

* * *

Blaine took another glance at the outfit spread out on his bed. His complete lack of experience with dating and relationships made him doubt every choice of clothes he'd come up with in the last few hours. At some point he even started regretting never having been co-conscious with Liam, before remembering that his alter wasn't exactly a dinner-and-a-movie kind of guy.

Kurt was supposed to pick him up at seven, and at five thirty Blaine's hands began to shake so violently, he wasn't sure he'd be able to get dressed in time. He took a long, steaming shower to calm his nerves, but when he came back into his room in a towel wrapped around his hips, he felt only worse.

His heart was pounding, his head was dizzy and he could feel reality slipping from under his fingertips, as he reached out for his clothes, determined to stay lucid and get ready, and _not screw this up_.

Kathryn opened her eyes and gave a squeak before tugging the towel up to her chest.

'Oh, Blaine, when will you learn that your bed isn't the place to put your clothes, even for a second,' she muttered, grabbing Blaine's carefully assembled outfit and storing each piece of clothing neatly in its rightful place.

Then she moved gracefully to the part of the closet that was hers. It was full of plain, but elegant skirts, shirts, cashmere sweaters and shoes on medium-height heels. She picked a simple dark blue skirt and a red sweater, before deciding to go back to the bathroom to shave her legs. It'd been way too long since she last did that.

Wrapped in a fluffy pink bathrobe, Kathryn slipped out of Blaine's room. She didn't even make it halfway to the bathroom before running into a surprised Sebastian.

'Kathryn, what are you doing here?,' he asked her cautiously.

'Oh, don't you know? That Kurt boy that Blaine appears to like so much is coming tonight,' she said. 'You know I'm not particularly happy about your and Blaine's lifestyle choices, but for his sake I may as well try and see if I get on well with Kurt. Blaine needs someone to take good care of him, especially when I'm not around.'

Seb gave her a short nod, frowning. If there was one thing that annoyed him about Kathryn, it was her calling their homosexuality a lifestyle choice, but he'd already gotten used to that.

Kathryn smiled a little and mouthed, 'Bathroom,' before skipping away.

As soon as the bathroom door was locked, Sebastian bolted for Wes' room.

'We've got a problem, wonder boy. Big one.'

* * *

It was exactly seven o'clock, when Kurt rang the bell to Blaine's apartment on Friday evening. He was anxious, and kept on wondering if getting Blaine flowers was fine. He turned the bouquet of pink carnations in his hand a couple of times, considering whether he still had time to ditch them after all.

He could tell something was wrong the moment he saw Sebastian on the doorstep, instead of Blaine. And then the flowers were completely forgotten.

'What happened?,' he blurted out, not caring about greetings or manners.

'Kathryn happened.' Seb gave a short shrug. 'I guess he was stressing over that little date of yours and, you know, she showed up.'

For a moment Kurt was dumbstruck and froze in the spot. He couldn't tell if he was disappointed, angry or maybe just wanted to take Blaine in his arms and hold him. And if it really was anger, who or what was its object? Blaine? Kathryn? That fucking illness that wouldn't let Blaine have the life he deserved? Whatever happened that caused it?

Once he could feel his body again, Kurt pushed past Sebastian, making his way towards the living room. He wasn't sure Kathryn would be there, but he wouldn't go barging into Blaine's bedroom.

But she was there, perched on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands. The moment Kurt walked in, she put her tea down and stood up, fixing her skirt.

Kurt couldn't focus on anything but the way she looked for a good minute. As with the others, it was clear that the body was Blaine's, even with the feminine clothes and shaved legs (and they were very attractive legs, even though Kurt would probably like them better in their natural state), and the delicate make-up. But she was just as different as she was similar. Her hips swayed slightly when she walked up to him, and she had the aura of the kind of woman who wants to make you feel at home from the moment you cross her doorstep.

'Kurt! Hello, dear, it's such a pleasure to meet you,' she said in a voice that was so soft and warm, it almost wrapped Kurt like a blanket.

'It's really nice to meet you, too, Kathryn,' he managed to say, taking her hand and giving her knuckles a peck.

'Oh, you're such a little gentleman!,' she exclaimed with a smile.

Kurt couldn't help but answer with a similar, though somewhat awkward expression.

'Still, Kathryn, with all due respect, I was supposed to be meeting _Blaine_ tonight,' he said.

Her expression fell.

'Well, Kurt, I'm very sorry, but Blaine just wasn't- up for that,' she told him, lowering her voice.

Apparently asking an alter to leave didn't do the trick. It didn't exactly surprise Kurt, but for some reason he'd hoped it would, or that at least Kathryn would be easy to negotiate with.

Kurt's thoughts raced in search of a solution of that fucked up situation. He was supposed to spend a nice evening and have dinner with someone he liked, and there had even been no need to force Blaine to say yes. And suddenly all he was left with was, by the looks of it, a middle-aged female alter in Blaine's body, and a booked table at a restaurant.

There was only one way out Kurt could think of. Remembering he was still clutching that stupid bouquet in his left hand, he raised it, offering the flowers to Kathryn.

'They were supposed to be for Blaine, but since he's not here, and you are, I'd be glad if you accepted them,' he said awkwardly.

Kathryn smiled politely.

'That's very sweet of you, Kurt, thank you.' She took a look around and caught a glimpse of Sebastian, who was leaning on the doorframe and smirking. 'Sebastian, be so kind as to find me a vase for these, please.'

'Right away, Kathryn,' Seb said, sweetening his voice up so much it would stick to your fingers if only you could touch it.

'Forgive him, he's not very well-behaved,' she said quietly.

'I heard that,' Sebastian's voice came from the room next door. 'And it's not my manners, it's that you're too fucking uptight.'

It was obvious the f-word offended and upset her.

'Watch your tongue, young man,' she said, attempting to contain her anger and she forced a smile. 'So, Kurt, what were you planning for tonight before- before it turned out Blaine couldn't be here?'

Conquering the last vestiges of hesitation, Kurt sighed.

'I don't think I have to change the plans much,' he started. 'That is if you agree to accompany me to dinner in Blaine's place.'

Her eyes lit up, and it was hard for Kurt to ignore the fact that they were actually _Blaine's_ eyes. They were such pretty eyes. Only the mascara and eyeliner distorted the image.

'I would love to,' she replied. 'It's so nice getting to know Blaine's friends.'

* * *

Kurt was positive it was the strangest of his encounters with Blaine's alters so far. He'd treated Liam as if he was real, because he hadn't known better, and Boo's appearance had shocked him, since Kurt never considered the possibility of an alter being a never-aging toddler. Kathryn was different.

He'd known there was a female personality, he'd known her name, and had a suspicion that she showed up whenever Blaine needed some sort of an emotional shield. Apart from that, he'd had no knowledge of her whatsoever.

'Thank goodness you chose an Italian restaurant,' she said when they were studying the menus after a long walk filled mostly with uncomfortable silence. Once they arrived, the wait staff and guests gave them a few curious glances, but Kurt ignored them; Kathryn didn't seem to have noticed. 'I truly cannot understand how it is that people eat raw fish and say it's delicious.'

Kurt smiled slightly at her words; she was opinionated. That was good to know. Opinions vary and he had a feeling she could have some he wouldn't like.

He wasn't wrong, and she didn't fail to make it very clear to him.

'So, Kurt, this was supposed to be a _date_, am I right? You asked Blaine out on a _date_?,' she asked, emphasizing the word with a little cringe.

'Yes, Kathryn, it was.' Kurt wasn't quite sure he knew what she was getting at.

She bit her lip uncomfortably, swirling the slice of lemon in her water with a straw.

'I would hate to be rude, but – as I truly care only about Blaine's well-being – I'm not exactly a fan of the lifestyle that he has chosen for himself. Like the one you apparently have made. Or Sebastian.' Kathryn peered into his face with a steadiness that was completely unlike Blaine, which took him by surprise far more than the fact that she practically outed Sebastian to him.

It took Kurt a moment to put two and two together and realize what she meant by _lifestyle_.

'Do you think he chose to be gay, Kathryn?,' he asked her softly.

'I only know what it says in Leviticus, "if a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination".'

Kurt pursed his lips in order to keep his emotions in check. He'd heard those words before so often, back in Ohio; then he had to control himself so that no one would hurt him for doing right by himself, now it was so that he wouldn't hurt – directly or indirectly – someone he knew he had to do right by.

'Leviticus also says you cannot eat shellfish or get tattoos,' he replied. 'It sanctions slavery and stoning adulterers.'

'Well, those were different times, Kurt-,' Kathryn began.

'Exactly,' he cut in. 'And now, just like we know that slavery is wrong, we know you don't _choose_ to be gay. None of us did, believe me.'

Kathryn made an attempt to stare him down and maybe change his mind, but he wouldn't budge. Finally, she gave the Bible commentary up.

'Are you serious about Blaine, then?,' she asked.

'Yes,' Kurt answered without a second's hesitation.

She took a bite of her ravioli and swallowed it in silence.

'Do you know why he's so lonely? He's got us, of course, but well, Liam and Boo are no use, and Cooper- he's too immature to be of any help, either, so it leaves me and those two roommates of his. Wes is such a lovely young man, isn't he? Um- What was I saying?'

Kurt's lips twitched up. There were moments when he actually liked Kathryn.

'You asked if I knew why Blaine was lonely,' he reminded her.

'Right. Do you?'

'I don't. Does it have anything to do with his- um- his condition?' Kurt didn't know how safe it was for him to address Blaine's DID in front of one of his alters.

Kathryn scoffed, and Kurt made a note in his mind never to do that again.

'Blaine's perfectly healthy. He's just a little- troubled. And if by illness you meant that, then yes. But it's also because he's shy and he lacks self-esteem.'

'I figured as much.' Kurt nodded. 'I don't really understand why, but I hope you'll let him tell me everything. Whenever he's ready.'

* * *

**A/N:** I know you were probably expecting something else from that date, but this had to happen. This is not an easy road, and there's going to be a whole lot of bumps in it. Plus, it was very interesting for me to write Blaine transition into Kathryn. (BTW, I have no idea what an actual transition looks like, so please, don't treat it like a documentary.)

Before you start asking me why one of Blaine's alters name is Cooper, I'm just going to say this: you'll know in due time. I'm not going to tell you yet. If you have a theory, I'll be glad to hear it, but don't count on me giving anything away. I want you to have a chance of piecing the story behind Blaine's DID together on your own.

And I don't know about you, but I'm still on an _I Do _high. That was one amazing episode Klaine-wise.


	7. Chapter 7: I Know What I Want

**Chapter 7: I Know What I Want**

Blaine blinked a few times, trying to adjust his eyes to the morning brightness. His brain was fuzzy from sleep and a minute passed before he remembered everything. Or rather realized he didn't remember a thing.

His eyes snapped open widely and he sat up. There was no need to look down to make sure he was wearing Kathryn's silk nightdress, but he did it anyway. He covered his face with his hands, trying his best not to break down into tears.

Never before had he wished so much to stay lucid as he had the previous day – if it even was the previous day. He'd tried everything just to stay calm and not freak out, and just be himself. But somehow his insecurities and fears had taken the best of him and ruined everything, his probably only chance of maybe getting to live a full life. Why did this fucking illness have to get him down to earth and tear down every single hope and dream he'd ever had? Why couldn't it just _stop_?

Blaine hurried out of bed, tearing off Kathryn's clothes on his way to the closet. He wished he could go back to yesterday morning and not transition this time. But all he could do was try and push Kathryn's visit out of his mind.

He put on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and he was just about to flop back to the bed, when a glimpse of pink on his piano caught his eye.

A sweet small bouquet of pink carnations was standing there in a white vase. There was no note or anything, but there was only one person who'd bring him flowers. Too bad Kurt wasn't coming back.

Tears were filling his eyes again, and this time he didn't even bother to try and blink them away. He threw himself onto the bed and hugged his pillow. Sebastian and Wes weren't the best people to offer him a shoulder to cry on. And fuck, he needed to cry.

The first streams rolled down his face, and into the pillow. He felt a little like he was drowning in the tears he had in him after that date failure, oblivious to everything but the comforting warmth of his bed and the sorrow that he wanted to leave behind him. Crying it all out seemed like a good idea.

He was so consumed by his misery that he didn't hear the footsteps in the hallway or the quietly opened door. Blaine only noticed he wasn't alone anymore when it slid back close with a bang, and he jumped upright on the bed, his eyes red and wet.

'Kurt?,' he mumbled, hastily wiping the tears away. And he'd thought he couldn't screw things up any further.

'I hoped you wouldn't wake up while I'm gone, I only left for a moment,' Kurt said frantically. He'd never been as terrified by tears; hell, normally he was comfortable with them, whether they were his or someone else's. Now he only wanted Blaine's tears to stop.

'What?,' Blaine asked in disbelief. 'You- you were here?'

Kurt dropped his gaze to the bunch of white roses he was holding in his hand. He wouldn't have left if he hadn't decided to get Blaine flowers and actually give them to him. He couldn't even be sure Blaine would be back already when he wakes up, but he stupidly made up his mind about it anyway.

'Yeah. I just- I wanted to get you these,' he said, holding the flowers up to Blaine.

In his surprise and with his eyes still half-full of tears, Blaine hadn't noticed the roses in Kurt's hand earlier. He gasped and froze, unable to reach for them.

'You got me flowers?,' he asked weakly.

Kurt's cheeks turned scarlet.

'I guess it wasn't the best idea,' he muttered. 'Those were supposed to be for you, too,' he motioned to the carnations on the piano, 'but- um- Kathryn was here, so she got them instead. I wanted to make it up to you, so-'

'You got me roses.'

'I got you roses,' Kurt confirmed, feeling terribly awkward standing there like a moron with a bunch of stupid flowers in his extended hand, and Blaine watching him with saucer-sized puffy red eyes.

'No one had ever given me flowers,' Blaine said quietly, unable to grasp that apparently _this_ was reality. Not some beautifully improbable dream he'd soon wake up from.

He finally reached out to take the roses out of Kurt's hand. They were perfect, snow white and flawless.

'Thank you, they're beautiful,' he whispered.

Blaine stared at the flowers in silence for a moment, Kurt watching him all the while, unsure what to do.

'Do you want me to go?,' he asked at last, making Blaine jerk his head up in confusion.

'No. Why- Do _you _want to go?' Blaine's voice tensed, barely audible.

Kurt shook his head violently. Now that Blaine was back, there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

'Why did you even stay?,' Blaine asked, incredulity clear in his tone. 'I screwed everything up, so why would you want to stay?'

It hurt to hear him question himself so much. Kurt leapt forwards, sitting in front of him on the bed and putting his hands on the sides of Blaine's face. He would've grabbed his hands, but they were still occupied with the bouquet.

'You didn't screw anything up. If anybody screwed up, it was me, because I didn't think it could be this stressful for you. I stayed, because I wanted you to know you are not alone. I wanted you to know you can count on me. I'm not going anywhere.'

Before Blaine knew it, there were fresh tears flowing down his cheeks, sprinkling the roses with salty dew.

'But I- I have nothing to offer,' he stammered through the tears. 'I'm- crazy and- it's not going to change, no matter how much I want it to.'

He looked up at Kurt helplessly.

'Shh, I know. I know what all of this means for me.' Kurt looked straight into Blaine's eyes, not letting him avert his gaze. 'And I know what I want.'

Blaine was so overwhelmed he thought he'd transition any second. But nothing happened. He was still himself, staring with disbelief into those amazing blue eyes in front of him.

Until those eyes slid a couple of inches down and up again, more intense than he'd ever seen them, and not three seconds later there were lips on his lips, soft and sweet. He couldn't help but close his eyes and sigh into the kiss that he hadn't even been fully aware he longed for so badly.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, even though the kiss was chaste and simple. Somehow, they both felt as if somebody kicked them in the chest, knocking air out of their lungs.

'Are you sure? Really, really sure this is what you want?,' Blaine whispered, leaning his forehead on Kurt's.

'Yes, I'm sure. I couldn't be surer.'

'But you know I can't guarantee to always be here? I'm not really available to be a twenty four seven kind of- boyfriend.' He hesitated at the last word. Was it really what they were about to become? Boyfriends?

'I know. But I'll be here twenty four seven. Whenever you need me. Or whenever any of the others needs me, I'll be here, too.'

Blaine closed his eyes; the improbability of this moment was dizzying. He'd never thought it would be possible, but there it was. Real and tangible.

'You have no idea how much it means to me,' he breathed.

'And it means a lot to me that you want me around,' Kurt said. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating to say all of these things. But he wasn't lying, he didn't doubt his decision was right, not for a moment.

* * *

**A/N:** I know the chapter's short, but it's also important, so forgive me.

You might have noticed I added titles to the chapters I've posted earlier. So, if everything goes as I want it to, there will be chapter titles from now on.

Also, a few days ago I wrote a flashback for the story that I have no idea what to do with as of now, but it was probably the most emotionally draining thing I've ever written. I hope I'll manage to incorporate it into the story somehow, or maybe I'll post it separately, but that will be later, I don't want you to know some things before Kurt learns them.


	8. Chapter 8: Firsts

**Chapter 8: Firsts**

Neither of Blaine's roommates dared interrupt them, and they were grateful. It was Saturday, so they could stay in that quiet room, not caring about anything else. It was calm and blissful.

They were lying on Blaine's bed facing each other, their hands at first touching gingerly, but now firmly intertwined between them. Kurt couldn't help staring into those hypnotizing hazel eyes that stared back at him with a similar stunned expression. They didn't talk much; an hour passed by with only a few sentences and a couple of gentle kisses being exchanged.

'What are you thinking about?,' Blaine asked tentatively, breaking their companionable silence.

'Nothing, really,' Kurt shrugged with one shoulder, dropping his gaze to their locked fingers. 'Just- I'm happy I'm here.'

His smile and his confession dazzled Blaine for a moment.

'You're not saying it just to be nice, are you?,' Blaine asked quietly, his expression momentarily wary.

Kurt shifted to lift his free hand to Blaine's face and make him look up. There seemed to be a battle going on inside of Blaine, hope fighting with doubt and neither getting the upper hand.

'I told you, this is where I want to be. I _couldn't_ be happier,' Kurt said.

Blaine nodded infinitesimally. This was too much to absorb; not long ago he used to chastise himself for his thoughts straying in the direction of maybe finding someone. He did want to get off the drugs to be more himself and _try_ looking for someone. He wouldn't even dare let himself hope for anybody like Kurt.

Kurt was so far out of his league it hurt. Yet somehow he was right here, on top of his bed, holding his hand. Blaine could feel the touch, the warmth of Kurt's body, and see him clearly, but despite the undeniable tangibility of the man in front of him, he was still unable to believe it.

Seeing Blaine was unconvinced, Kurt sighed sadly, before cupping Blaine's cheek and closing the distance between them. This time the kiss was far less tentative than any of the earlier ones. Without thinking what he was doing, Blaine opened his mouth by a fraction. It felt so good.

Kurt didn't think much either. He deepened the kiss, his tongue finding its way into Blaine's mouth. Blaine kissed him back sloppily, his own tongue chasing Kurt's and his lips working instinctually against the other set. At the same time, they let go of each other's hands, throwing arms around one another instead. A hand would slide down a back or a chest from time to time, sending shivers down the owner's spine. Once they finally broke apart, they were both gasping, lips red, kiss-swollen and arched in matching grins.

'Well- I guess this could count as my first ever make-out session,' Blaine mumbled, his head still hazy and full of Kurt, his mouth, his tongue, his eyes, his body flushed against his own (he tried his best to ignore what he was quite sure was Kurt's erection).

'Seriously?,' Kurt asked, before checking himself. 'Oh. Right. So there was never- anyone?'

Blaine grimaced.

'No, it's kinda hard to date people, when you have alters that constantly get in the way. When people realize you're crazy, they just run away.'

'I didn't,' Kurt said softly.

'Yeah, you didn't. Or haven't. I'm still waiting for you to bolt.'

Blaine attempted a smile, but it came out weak and unconvincing, making Kurt believe he was being serious.

'I'm not going to. Unless you throw me out.' Kurt reached out to brush a stray curl from Blaine's forehead. 'And if you threw me out, I'd probably just stand in front of the building until you started feeling bad for me and took me back.'

'I wouldn't throw you out,' Blaine whispered.

'I know.' Kurt leaned to give him a short kiss on the lips.

'But- um- you know that, unlike me, Liam isn't exactly a saint, right?,' Blaine asked timidly, biting his lip.

Kurt nodded with a playful smile.

'I do, after all the night I met him he almost gave me head, so-'

Blaine nearly choked, his eyes bulging in shock.

'What?'

'Um- Right, I guess I haven't really told you that…' Kurt's cheeks turned red.

'What do you mean that he _almost_ gave you head?'

'I stopped him before it got too far,' Kurt explained. 'You know, it was a failed attempt to be a gay bar superstar on my part. I'm just a silly romantic and in the end I don't think it would feel right.'

Blaine sighed with relief. Kurt having sexual experiences with Liam would be as awkward as it gets.

'Good.' He paused with hesitation for a moment. 'This is kinda how I became friends with Seb, actually.'

'What do you mean?,' Kurt asked curiously.

'We went to school together,' Blaine began. 'Wes graduated two years before us, and Sebastian only transferred for his junior year, so they first met for real when we moved in together here. But anyway, Seb's a bit of a- player, I guess I could call him. He and Liam have quite a lot in common, to be honest. I don't know what exactly happened, I only know what Sebastian's told me, but well- It had gone pretty far, especially for a couple of seventeen-year-olds in a boarding school dorm, before Seb realized something was off about me.'

Kurt was listening carefully. He was curious were the story was going, but wouldn't interrupt with questions.

'So he stopped whatever he was doing, and believe me, that doesn't happen often. It took him over an hour to somehow get through and for me to become lucid again.' Blaine winced at the memory. 'I was so shocked I almost transitioned again. I couldn't understand how I ended up in his room, we never really talked, I only knew him as that arrogant prick that tried to flirt with every cute guy around.'

The sole memory was making him anxious again, but Kurt's hand had been rubbing soothing circles on his back and it calmed him a little.

'That was when I found out about Liam,' Blaine added.

'Found out? You didn't know about him?,' Kurt asked softly.

Blaine shook his head.

'No. Until then, I didn't know. I suppose that could've even been his first appearance,' he said. 'He was the last one to turn up. The rest's been there pretty much from the beginning.'

They fell silent. Kurt didn't want to ask something that would strain Blaine more, and he wasn't even sure if his new boyfriend was ready for that conversation. They would get there eventually, but rushing things would probably not be the best idea in the world.

Having Kurt stare at him was beginning to send Blaine's self-consciousness levels skyrocketing. He raised his eyes at Kurt with an apologetic smile.

'I'm sorry I'm such a moment ruiner,' he said. 'I wish every conversation didn't have to finish with DID.'

'Don't apologize.' Kurt ran his fingers down Blaine's face gently. 'It's a part of you, and talking about it is better than avoiding the subject like it doesn't exist, isn't it?'

Blaine nodded shortly.

'Still, I'd rather you didn't have to deal with all this shit. And I honestly don't know how it is that you're even here,' he said sheepishly.

'I came and I stayed,' Kurt replied simply.

* * *

**A/N:** This one's short, too, I know, sorry again for that. I feel kinda weird about it, but let's hope I didn't screw this up.

And the next chapter is probably one you shouldn't miss!


	9. Chapter 9: Sharing

**Chapter 9: Sharing**

Hours passed them by so quickly, they could swear something was wrong with the time continuum. When their stomachs finally reminded them neither had eaten all day, they ordered pizza, but they stayed sprawled on Blaine's bed. It felt like they had their own little piece of paradise in that small corner of the apartment.

'Would it be okay if I came to one of your gigs?,' Kurt asked, reaching for another slice of pizza.

Blaine was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering as far away from Kurt's as was possible.

'I- I guess so,' he mumbled at last. 'It's just- I kinda get stressed from even thinking about it.' He sent Kurt an apologetic smile.

'It must be tough with a stage fright like that.'

'It's not that.' Blaine shook his head, feeling silly. 'I normally don't have a stage fright. At all. It's more that- I'm afraid _you_ being there would make me nervous.'

'Oh.' Kurt's expression fell. And he'd started to think they were getting somewhere, that somehow Blaine could relax around him and not worry.

At the sight of the sudden change in Kurt's face, Blaine almost lunged forward, grasping his boyfriend's free hand.

'I mean that I don't want you to think I suck.'

'You couldn't possibly suck,' Kurt said, his eyes shiny and sincere, as he leaned to plant a kiss on Blaine's lips. He tasted of the pepperoni they were having. 'So can I come to one of your gigs?'

Blaine couldn't help but smile and nod.

'Yeah, I guess you can.' He bit his lip. 'Just- don't be surprised if I freak out a little when you show up.'

Kurt squeezed his hand lightly.

'I won't be. I get that,' he said. 'When I was in show choir and I had even a line of solo in a competition, I would be petrified.'

'You were in show choir?,' Blaine asked, pleasantly surprised.

Kurt nodded, taking a huge bite of pizza.

'Yup, since sophomore year,' he said, swallowing the mouthful. 'We even went to nationals twice and won once.'

'It's a bummer we never met at sectionals or regionals,' Blaine said. ' But then, we'd be rivals that would be an even greater bummer.'

Kurt agreed with a smile. Maybe it was better for them to meet now and not in high school. At least they were past the awkwardness of adolescence.

'What was your glee club's name? I could've heard about you back in the day,' he said. 'I was in the McKinley High New Directions.'

'The Dalton Academy Warblers,' Blaine replied proudly.

'Ooh, you're a prep school boy! I should've guessed.'

Blaine frowned at him.

'Why?'

'Because you're so well-mannered, dapper and polite. And that's a total compliment,' Kurt hastened to add.

'Would you peg _Sebastian_ for a prep school boy, though?'

'Not really. Wes, maybe.'

'We were all in the Warblers,' Blaine explained. 'This was part of the reason why they agreed to be roommates with me. I couldn't live alone, for obvious reasons, and Sebastian's parents wanted someone to keep an eye on his not to get in trouble too much.'

'And Wes?'

'You know, Wes is just a good guy and a great friend, so he took us in. This is his apartment really.'

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, munching on their food and exchanging little smiles and longing glances. Until Kurt chose to speak again and immediately regretted doing so.

'And what about your parents? You've never mentioned them.'

The way Blaine's body tensed and his breath hitched told Kurt that it was exactly what he shouldn't have asked about. If Blaine wasn't saying something , it meant that something was a potential trigger for him.

'Oh my god, Blaine, I am so sorry, I didn't meant to- Please, just forget I said anything.' Kurt's tone and eyes were pleading.

Blaine inhaled deeply, focusing with all his might on the reality in front of him. He thought he should probably be angry with Kurt, but on the other hand, he'd had no way of knowing it was a dangerous subject to touch upon.

'No, it's fine, you didn't know,' he managed finally. He was on the verge of lucidity, but held onto it as strongly as he could, desperate not to lose it.

'Still, I should've been more considerate,' Kurt mumbled, covering Blaine's hand with his own in a reassuring gesture.

Blaine nodded reluctantly. Being treated like a rotten egg was one of the things he hated most about his DID. It made him feel weak, fragile and inadequate. Like he never got a chance to grow up; he was a twenty three year-old infant that everyone had to handle with care not do him any harm.

'But you should know,' he said after a moment's pause. 'And I will tell you everything. I'm just not sure I'm ready.'

'Don't worry about it.' Kurt was tracing soothing circles on the back of Blaine's hand, making his breath steady.

'My parents…,' Blaine started uncertainly. 'My Dad's an asshole alcoholic. It's sad, but it's also true.'

Kurt decided it was best to let him talk, at least for as long as he was relatively calm. Interrupting now could make him shut up again, and maybe it wouldn't end in a disaster, if he got some of his dark secrets off his chest. And even if it ended up with a visit from one of the alters, Kurt believed he could handle it.

'I haven't seen him since my Grandma- passed away last year. That wasn't a nice meeting, though.' Blaine sighed. The vivid image of his father disturbing Grandma's memorial service had ceased to piss him off; now it only seemed to him profoundly sad. 'Grandma was my best friend, my hero, my defender. She drove me to as many psychiatrists as it took for them to finally admit I was not schizophrenic.' He caught Kurt's querying look and added, 'Fourteen. Ten of them didn't even mention DID as a probable diagnosis. They either didn't believe it existed – which happens, trust me – or simply couldn't see the symptoms. The others… they just thought I was hearing voices, because they only ever met C- one of my alters.'

'How could psychiatrists _not_ _believe_ in a mental illness?,' Kurt couldn't stop himself from asking.

Blaine wasn't offended by the question; he often wondered the exact same thing.

'I suppose it's because the mind is much more tricky to investigate than the body.' He shrugged, even though it still made him angry to know people thought he was making everything up. As if anybody would pretend to get their body hijacked by alter egos every once in a while. 'Some shrinks think it's a way of getting attention. That people like me- that we lie about not being able to control the alters. That we pretend to have other personalities to be noticed or to not be blamed for whatever the alters do.'

Kurt was listening to every word, his rage increasing with each one. They sounded awfully, terrifyingly familiar.

'Why would anyone choose to pretend to be sick? I mean-' His voice trailed off. He'd rather not risk triggering Blaine again.

'I know. In a way- It's a little like what they say about choosing to be gay,' Blaine said, unknowingly mirroring Kurt's thoughts.

'It is,' Kurt agreed, pulling his boyfriend close to his chest. 'I wish someone as amazing as you didn't have to go through all this.'

'Yeah, me too,' Blaine sighed, Kurt's scent filling his nostrils when he inhaled again. It was soothing and astonishingly mind-clearing. 'Wait, you said I was amazing.'

'I did.'

'Thanks,' Blaine mumbled, trying to contain the euphoria that came over him for a moment.

Sitting with arms around each other and speaking nothing seemed effortless and comfortable when they were together. However, Blaine still had something he wanted to tell Kurt. Not the whole story, he wasn't ready for that yet, but he felt compelled to let this piece of information out.

'My Mom's dead,' he muttered barely loud enough for his boyfriend to make out the words.

'So is mine,' Kurt replied, not sure if the time was right for him to share.

'How did she-?,' Blaine paused and swallowed. God, he hated that word.

'She was in a bad car crash.'

As soon as the words were out, Blaine's muscles stiffened under Kurt's touch. His breath turned shallow and ragged.

'Blaine.' Kurt grabbed Blaine's face between his hands, holding his gaze. 'Breathe, sweetie. Breathe.'

Watching Blaine fight with his alters for control, balancing on the edge of lucidity, was heart-wrenching. His eyes would lose focus every other second, but he kept on gulping for air as if he was drowning.

Finally, his breath steadied, his gaze locking on Kurt's.

'I'm fine,' he choked out. 'I thought I- I could talk about- _this_, but-'

His eyes were filling with tears, stupid fucking tears, and now he began to wish he hadn't struggled. Sometimes it was easier to give in.

'Shh, Blaine, it's okay, I don't mind. We'll talk when you're ready.'

Kurt held him closer, rubbing his back in an attempt to quiet the sobs that shook his frame. Seeing Blaine crying made him feel like crying, too.

'I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment,' Blaine muttered between sobs.

'You are not a disappointment,' Kurt whispered straight into his ear.

* * *

**A/N:** I don't know exactly when I'd give you any fuller information about what happened to Blaine (that is, the flashback I've mentioned before), but there are some clues in this chapter, which you could've noticed. I want you to be kept almost as much in the dark as Kurt is about it, but if you have a theory, I'd be happy to read it!

Thanks for reading and sticking around!


	10. Chapter 10: Surprise

**Chapter 10: Surprise**

Saying goodbye had never seemed to be such a hard and time-consuming thing until then. They were standing at the apartment door for twenty minutes, unable to let go of each other's hands and kiss one last time before Kurt had to finally leave.

'Can we meet tomorrow?,' Kurt asked wistfully, resting his head on the door frame and pouting.

'I have a gig tomorrow night,' Blaine sighed, for the first time ever regretting he was working. He loved his job; it was the only thing that made him believe he was something more than a crazy person.

'So you don't want me to come?' As much as he hated not to be there for Blaine, Kurt understood unwillingness to expose oneself very well.

Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand a little more tightly, giving him an apologetic smile.

'You know it's not that,' he said. 'I kinda wish you came, but then- I just don't want anything to go wrong.'

'I know.' Kurt cupped Blaine's face to give him a kiss. 'I'll call you, okay?'

'Okay,' Blaine breathed against his boyfriend's lips, still incredulous it was all real.

'Good luck tomorrow. I'm going to miss you.'

Blaine's heart skipped a beat at the words.

'I'm going to miss you, too,' he choked out, before kissing Kurt once more.

Their fingers were locked for as long as they could.

Kurt wasn't even halfway to the subway station, when he pulled his phone out, blessing his last night's idea to get Sebastian's number. He typed as quickly as he could without stopping.

_If you're in the same room with Blaine, go somewhere else._

Sebastian answered within a half minute, _Why? I'm sensing mischief and I'm liking that. Wouldn't expect it from you, though_.

With a roll of his eyes, Kurt tapped his phone lightly to respond._ You're hilarious. So are you in the same room as Blaine or not?_

_No. Whatever it is, you can call me_.

Almost as soon as the phone buzzed with Seb's reply, Kurt dialed his number.

'I just need to know one thing,' he said, not caring to greet the other guy.

'I know you were at our place for like twenty four hours, but a "hello" wouldn't hurt,' Sebastian answered. 'What do you need?'

* * *

The bar was a little more crowded than Blaine thought it would be. People were sipping their drinks, engaged in chit chat with their friends, barely paying any attention to the single guy that was plugging in his guitar on the small stage in the corner. It was nothing out of the ordinary; he wasn't a hot-shot to expect the audience to actually give a fuck about him, but he also was pretty confident they wouldn't complain he was there. Nobody ever did.

Wes and Sebastian were somewhere, stuck with probably the worst possible table in a dingy corner of the establishment, and Blaine couldn't see them from where he was. He never insisted on their coming to his gigs, but they did whenever they could. It was a rare occurrence for neither to show up, and even though neither ever admitted the reason why they did it, Blaine knew they were looking out for him, just in case something triggered him and someone had to take care of him. His employers were aware of Blaine's disorder, but they were also deprived of any actual experience with any of the alters, so the boys preferred having the chance to step in, if they were ever needed. So far they had never been needed.

As much as Kurt wasn't a fan of small closed spaces filled with people to the brim, he blessed the crowd he discovered in the bar. It helped him make a bee line between the tables and patrons carrying their drinks to their seats, without Blaine noticing him, and find Wes and Sebastian in the back.

'Hey, guys,' he greeted them, slipping onto the only free high stool at their table. 'Please, tell me he's not going to come out here before he starts.'

'He's not,' Wes answered. 'He never does.'

Kurt scanned the room nervously. He was barely able to see the stage, but that was the point. Blaine couldn't know he was there, at least not until the gig was over.

'You didn't tell him, did you?,' he asked one more time.

'We didn't.' Sebastian smirked. 'You know, I think I figured out why you two make such an oddly well-matched couple.' Kurt quirked his eyebrows in question. ''Cause you're both so uptight and shit.'

Kurt's cheeks began to burn a little, and he was about to retort to Seb's statement, but Wes interrupted him.

'He meant that you're both nice guys.'

'Oh.' Kurt could hardly stop himself from beaming. 'So you think me and Blaine- that we make a good couple?'

Wes smiled warmly at him; Sebastian only gave a short chuckle.

'Yeah, we do. And you do,' the former said. 'You're probably everything we've ever hoped for him to find in a guy.'

This time Seb's laughter was much louder.

'You make us seem like two gay fathers talking to a potential son-in-law, you realize that?,' he asked his roommate.

'That's sorta accurate, though, don't you think?,' Wes said. 'Only I'm not gay, and even if I was, I would never have a kid with a pain in the ass like you.'

The music that had been seeping from the speakers died, and the boys fell silent. Blaine walked out onto the stage with his guitar in his hand and settled on a stool in front of the audience who acknowledged his presence for the first time this evening.

'Good evening, everyone, my name's Blaine Anderson and I will be entertaining you with live music tonight,' he introduced himself. 'At least unless you boo me off the stage. But let's hope this won't happen.'

Kurt watched him with amazement; the Blaine on stage had all the confidence that the everyday life Blaine severely lacked. As if having a microphone and a couple of instruments made him feel he was worth something after all. As if it made him forget everything else in his shitty life.

'I can't believe our Blainers is joking,' Sebastian muttered.

'He doesn't do that normally?,' Kurt asked confused.

'Oh, he does,' Wes said, 'but hardly ever at the beginning of the set, when he doesn't know the audience.'

Blaine started playing and Kurt dismissed Wes' remark for the time being. It was intriguing that Blaine should act differently on this specific night, but Kurt tried to be not as bold as to think he had anything to do with it.

The set was a combination of covers of old rock classics, songs from Disney movies and newer hits. It lasted for good two hours, but for Kurt it felt like one tenth of the time. Blaine's voice was smooth and beautiful, somehow fitting perfectly to whatever he was singing. Kurt was listening mesmerized, absolutely stunned by the sounds that graced his ears. He'd expected Blaine to be good, but that exceeded all his expectations. How could Blaine ever think Kurt would find him anything short of excellent?

Neither Wes or Sebastian were as hypnotized by the music, but they were used to Blaine performing, and had the chance to overhear him whenever he was practicing in the apartment. Wes kept on eyeing Kurt with a smug smile; he couldn't have imagined a better boyfriend for his roommate, even if he tried. Kurt was everything Blaine ever needed, the kind of sweet, caring, yet immensely strong person that would be able to handle all the aspects of being close to Blaine. Obviously, it wasn't really Blaine that was the problem. The DID was and most people weren't tough enough to accept it, not to mention embrace it. Usually, it scared them, and hell, Wes was terrified, too, when he first found out about it. Even Sebastian didn't hide being completely freaked out at the beginning, and he was not one to show weaknesses often.

And whatever it was that drew Kurt to Blaine, it must have been much, much stronger than any fear could be.

The last song ended, Blaine thanked his audience, his voice half-drowning in the applause, a wide smile stretching his lips. God, it felt good. He only wished that one day he would be normal enough to be able to look down from the stage and see Kurt giving him a standing ovation.

He was just about to get off the stage, when something in the crowd caught his eye. A familiar coiffed head that looked so much like… But no, he was seeing things. Kurt didn't even know where the gig was. He wasn't supposed to show up.

Blaine peered into the semi-darkness anyway. With each second he was growing inanely sure it really was his boyfriend tearing through the crowd in his direction. No matter how impossible it was, he could swear it was him. For a half minute Blaine thought he was going even crazier than he already was.

Until Kurt reached the bottom of the stage and looked up straight into Blaine's eyes, beaming at him in wonder.

'Blaine!,' he yelled over the buzz of the bar.

'Kurt? What are you doing here?,' Blaine mumbled, still unconvinced it was really happening. He wasn't even sure it upset him.

'I know I wasn't supposed to come, but you can blame Seb for giving me the details,' Kurt said. 'But don't get angry, please. You were amazing!'

For a moment Blaine froze, torn between jumping up and down with joy, and suspicion that Kurt was only trying to stop him from flipping out. But then – why would he even come up to him and let the cat out of the bag, if he didn't like the performance?

'Really?,' Blaine asked timidly at last.

'Absolutely, you were perfect,' Kurt confirmed, reaching his hand out to Blaine to help him step down from the platform.

* * *

**A/N:** As of now, there are 15 chapters of this story written and I have no idea how many more there will be. Could be 10, could be 15, or it could blow up into being really freaking long, like _Unintended_ did. But I'd bet at something between options one and two.

There's also going to be a flashback in one of the coming chapters (not the one I've mentioned, another one), so a clue about how to spot a flashback in _Puzzle Pieces_: if the narration is in the present tense instead of the past, you're most likely reading a flashback.

Oh, and I appreciate every piece of feedback I get, and the theories about what happened that you shared with me!


	11. Chapter 11: Unconventional

**Chapter 11: Unconventional**

'I guess I should be mad,' Blaine said, grinning playfully at Kurt.

They were walking down East 72nd Street towards Central Park. The evening was chilly, but the sky was clear, and if not for the city lights it would be starry. Until then they'd kept quiet since leaving the bar. Wes and Sebastian were entrusted with getting Blaine's guitar home safely, and let the other two boys have a little of alone time. Once the initial shock of seeing Kurt at his gig was over, Blaine decided the best thing to do was simply enjoy his presence. After all, none of the alters showed up, and Blaine didn't feel like he was going to lose it.

So for as long as he could, he wanted to hold on to this moment he had with his boyfriend.

'I know, I'm sorry.' Kurt looked at him apologetically. 'I was just hoping that if you didn't know and I didn't think you suck, that somehow it won't freak you out.'

Blaine nodded thoughtfully.

'You're probably right. And I don't mind, as long as you meant everything you said earlier.'

'I did,' Kurt said, smiling sheepishly at his boyfriend.

Containing the happiness that flooded Blaine like a massive wave was hardly possible. He chewed down on his lip to stop the beaming smile from growing too wide and too obvious. There was one fear he had to cross out of the enormous list of things that scared the hell out of him. Kurt liked his concert and said he didn't lie. Kurt actually enjoyed listening to him sing. Obviously, Blaine had been hearing positive opinions of his musical skills for years, but everybody else's seemed not even one hundredth as important as Kurt's.

'So… What exactly are we doing now?,' Blaine asked after another moment of silence.

'I have no idea,' Kurt admitted, a little embarrassed for not having made any plans. He couldn't have even been sure they'd be able to carry them out.

'So we're basically going to wander the streets of New York City in the middle of the night like this?' Blaine's tone was clearly teasing.

Kurt rolled his eyes at him.

'No, dummy. We're gonna figure something out.' After a half minute of intensive thinking, an idea popped into his mind. 'Can you keep a secret?'

With his ridiculous eyebrows raised in surprise, Blaine gave an answer in the affirmative.

'Then I hope you don't mind a little walk,' Kurt flashed him a grin, sliding his hand into Blaine's and suddenly taking a turn into the nearest street on their right.

The unexpected touch startled Blaine at first, knocking him out of breath. It was the first time they were _really_ holding hands in public like that.

'Wait, where are we even going?,' Blaine gasped, barely keeping up with Kurt's brisk pace without running.

'You'll see,' he said, just before halting and almost letting Blaine crash into him at full speed. 'You are hungry, right?'

Blaine hadn't even thought about such earthly things as food since spotting Kurt at the bar, but the question made him remember his last meal was long hours earlier, so he nodded hesitantly.

'We're going for dinner?'

'Yeah, but-,' Kurt started, doubt creeping suddenly into his mind. They still didn't know each other well enough to be sure of the other's reactions. 'Just don't expect candles or anything like that. Not tonight, anyway.'

He managed a relatively happy, teasing smile, trying to convince himself there would still be time to take Blaine out for the kind of date he'd envisioned for last Friday. Meanwhile, Blaine was doing his best to stop himself from hyperventilating, because Kurt's words implied he had every right to look forward to candlelit dinners and all the romantic crap that ninety per cent of the population would call cheesy and childish, and that he had always dreamed of.

Kurt was leading Blaine through the streets of Upper East Side, without the latter knowing what exactly was their destination. All the while, he was trying to make Kurt give him a hint, filling the walk with silly banter. It took them almost twenty minutes to get wherever they were going, but with Kurt minutes seemed to Blaine like seconds, making him feel like everything that he had at this moment could slip away in a blink of an eye. Like he was watching the sand in an hourglass, pouring down grain by grain, unstoppable and inevitably shrinking as time runs out. There was no way any of that would last.

Finally, they stopped in front of an unremarkable building in one of the side streets, and Kurt turned hastily to Blaine.

'First off, if anybody ever asks you, I've never brought you here. I know nothing of this place,' he said firmly, and Blaine only nodded, confused what the secrecy was about. 'Especially, if Rachel or my Dad ever allude to my having any _inkling_ about this place, deny everything. Okay?'

'Okay?' Blaine was growing restless and just the tiniest bit scared of whatever place Kurt was going to drag him into.

'And second,' Kurt made a dramatic pause, 'I really hope you like hot dogs.'

Blaine's eyes bulged; he must have misheard him.

'Hot dogs?' You're taking me out for hot dogs?'

Kurt's face immediately fell.

'Shit, I knew it would be a mistake,' he groaned. 'We can go wherever, but this place is just- They have the best hot dogs in the entire universe and-'

Completely unexpectedly for both of them, Blaine's hands cupped Kurt's face, pulling him firmly into a kiss that broke off whatever he was about to say.

'Oh,' Kurt choked out, once their lips separated. 'So you don't think that was a stupid idea?,' he ventured, trying to overcome his shock.

'I love junk food, of all sorts,' Blaine said, smiling widely at Kurt's bewildered expression and his own courage to act as he did. It was astonishingly easy to just lean forwards, and do it.

Kurt sighed with relief.

'Okay, good. You scared me for a second there.' He grasped Blaine's hand again in his and pulled him to the glass door a few steps away. 'This is my guilty pleasure,' he said, before yanking the door open before them and letting Blaine in.

He didn't really pay attention to the building before, but from what he could see now, the place they entered was probably the most cliché of an American diner, it looked almost as if it was somehow taken out of _Twin Peaks_ and transported magically to New York with the interior intact. It was small and empty at this hour on a Sunday, and a slightly bored middle-aged lady was working hard on solving crossword puzzles behind the counter. They placed their order, and before ten minutes were out, they were sitting in one of the low booths with steaming hot dogs in front of them.

One bite was enough for Blaine to establish that Kurt was right about the food. There was something about the simplicity of it that made it delicious, but it wasn't just that. There was something about the roll, or the ketchup, or the combination of everything, he couldn't really pinpoint it.

'Oh my god, how do they do this?,' he mumbled with his mouth full

Kurt chuckled slightly at the sight of Blaine acting a bit like a starved twelve-year-old.

'I take it you approve?'

'Absolutely! This is amazing.'

For a while it was too difficult to talk, because focusing on the food took up almost all of Blaine's attention.

'Kurt?,' Blaine said finally, looking up from his already empty plate. 'Earlier, you asked not to tell about this to Rachel and to- your Dad. Does that mean you want me to, like, meet him?'

Kurt reached out over the table to Blaine's hands folded neatly atop of it.

'Of course I do,' he said calmly and surely, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 'He's an important part of my life, and I want you to be one, too, so you two will have to meet at some point.'

The elaborateness of the answer took Blaine a little by surprise. He was expecting something along the lines of _You're my boyfriend, so I want to introduce you, if we get serious_. If he was standing, he was quite sure his knees would have buckled under him. That one sentence made him feel better than all the kisses in the world ever could. Kurt _wanted _him, wanted _him_ to be an _important part of his life_.

'Will he be fine with-,' Blaine began hesitantly, once he got over some of the surprise, 'with, you know, you dating a crazy guy?'

Kurt's eyes saddened for a split second, before he squeezed Blaine's hands a little more tightly with his own hand.

'Hey, don't call yourself that. Yes, you have a disorder, but don't reduce yourself to just that,' he said as firmly as he could. 'If you do that, the whole world will think it's okay to see you only as that, and you are so, _so_ much more.'

Blaine could feel the sting of inflowing tears in his eyes and nodded infinitesimally. It had been long months since he'd heard something like that from anybody. Kurt was right, of course he was, just like Blaine's grandmother used to be.

'My Dad wants me to be happy,' Kurt went on. 'He'll be worried, I'm sure he will, but once he sees what a great person you are, he'll be fine.'

A weak smile flickered on Blaine's lips, fading almost as soon as it appeared. It seemed that Kurt's relationship with his dad was everything Blaine had always wished for himself and his father. Instead, he got a parent who couldn't take on responsibility, incapable of forming anything resembling a loving relationship with his son. Blaine couldn't even recall a single instance of ever having a civil conversation with his father, not to mention never being told he was loved. All he could remember was drunken rants, pushing the blame for everything onto Blaine, dismissing his feelings and all the symptoms of his illness. There was never anything that Blaine could count on his father for, not for attention, not for love, not for acceptance. Not for anything a child needs. Not for anything Blaine craved and found a semblance of in his grandmother.

'I hope you're right,' Blaine said eventually, trying to shake off the negativity that was forcing dangerously into his mind. He couldn't and didn't want to think about any of that now. Now it was a moment for Kurt, and he wanted it to last as long as it could. 'Any other ideas for tonight?,' he asked.

* * *

It was late enough for Central Park to be virtually deserted, probably as peaceful as it ever got in the middle of teaming Manhattan. Fingers intertwined securely, Kurt and Blaine were walking slowly in silence. The sensation of simply being next to each other was enough.

'I didn't even know New York could be so peaceful,' Blaine said after a long while of quiet.

'It's rare,' Kurt agreed, glancing sideways at the contended expression on his boyfriend's face. 'So... Are you enjoying our date?'

The word surprised Blaine. It was a date then? It felt like what he imagined a date to feel like, but he hadn't really stopped to wonder what it really was.

'Is it a date?'

Kurt stopped in front of Blaine, making him halt as well, and grabbed both his hands in his own.

'It is. Maybe not the conventional type, but still,' he said and placed a short kiss on Blaine's mouth.

Blaine smiled against Kurt's lips.

'Yeah, I guess people usually know when they're going out for a date,' he joked. 'But then again, the last time I did know, it turned out bad, so... Let's keep it unconventional, okay?'

'I like unconventional,' Kurt replied, keeping the mood light.

They resumed walking, unconsciously leaving only as much distance between their bodies as holding hands allowed.

'If this really _is_ a date, then I am enjoying it,' Blaine said after a moment's pause. 'A lot. Thank you.'

'You're welcome.' Kurt bit his lip in hesitation before adding, 'But I did kinda go against your wishes with coming to your gig, and all...'

'I told you I don't mind,' Blaine interrupted him.

'I know,' Kurt said quickly. 'But I still don't think it was exactly fair on my part. I mean, you could've been upset when you found out I was there.'

'That's true, Blaine agreed, 'but I wasn't. I feel oddly calm when you're around.'

Kurt raised his eyebrows in question.

'Is that good or-?'

'Definitely good,' said Blaine with a timid smile. 'It's like the alters don't even want to come out when you're near me.'

'Oh.' Finding words to answer proved to be a challenge. The fact that Blaine basically told him that his presence seemed to keep Blaine's DID at bay made Kurt's heart flutter. 'Then I guess I'll have to stick around,' he choked out eventually.

'I'd like that.' Blaine's face was beaming. 'You know what? I guess you should make it up to me for showing up tonight.'

There was a playful quality to Blaine's voice, but Kurt scanned his expression suspiciously. It felt like playing truth or dare with a bunch of unpredictable teens.

'How?'

Blaine bit his lip in hesitation, and suddenly tug at Kurt's hand, leading him to the nearest bench. They sat down, their bodies angled so that they were facing each other.

'I want to hear you sing,' Blaine blurted out.

'What? Why?,' Kurt asked, his eyes bulging. 'How do you even know I _can_ sing?'

'Didn't you mention being a national show choir champion?' Blaine grinned.

'That is _not_ any proof of being able to sing, though,' Kurt countered. 'There was a girl in our glee club when we won that championship that couldn't sing for the world.'

Blaine sent him a doubtful look.

'Come on, you are not getting out of this,' he said. 'You heard me, so I want to hear you.'

With a purposefully exaggerated pout, Kurt crossed his arms on his chest.

'This isn't fair, I haven't sung in front of anyone, except for Rachel, for years. Plus, I mostly sound like a girl.'

'I'm sure you sound perfect,' Blaine encouraged.

Kurt was still feeling a little guilty for going against Blaine's wishes, even though everything turned out well, but the suggestion to sing, there in Central Park, without background music or anything, was nerve-wrecking. He was miserably out of practice and the thought of making a fool of himself made him shiver. At the same time, he knew Blaine must have felt pretty much the same when Kurt had suggested he should see Blaine performing.

'Okay, but don't be disappointed,' Kurt said reluctantly, searching his mind for a song he knew it would be hard for him to screw up.

'I couldn't be.'

Sending Blaine a questioning look, Kurt settled for _Being Alive_. He'd known the song for as long as he could remember, there was no way for him to forget the lyrics or the melody.

'Just ignore the fact that I'm so sappy and all,' he warned uneasily.

'I like sappy,' Blaine said, grinning up at him more cheerily than Kurt had ever seen him.

Performing in front of anyone after such a long break would be scary for Kurt, the fact that he was about to sing not only in Blaine's presence, but actually _for_ Blaine, almost made him freeze. He shifted on the bench, his gaze escaping from Blaine and into the distance. Pushing the awareness of the situation as deep in his mind as possible, he took a deep breath and started to sing.

The first notes came quiet and uncertain, yet beautiful and captivating. Blaine listened with amazement rising within him, not daring to interrupt, so Kurt went on singing, every word meaningful and sung with so much emotion that Blaine's eyes felt the tiniest bit wetter. Every single note seemed to be touching his heart, and god, that voice was beautiful, probably the most unique, most incredible thing he'd ever heard in his life.

The song ended and silence fell. For another moment Kurt was incapable of turning his head to look at Blaine, but when he finally did, the expression that he saw was one of dumbstruck wonder. There was nothing he could bring himself to say, so he smiled sheepishly, hoping to elicit some response from Blaine.

'Wow,' Blaine breathed finally. 'Why would you ever be scared of singing in front of anyone?'

Kurt shrugged, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.

'Same reason as why you were about me hearing you, I guess.'

* * *

It was three a.m. when they finally reached Blaine's apartment that night, giddy from the sweetness of the last few hours. They stopped at the door, leaning lazily at the doorframe, their hands never letting go of one another.

'Do you have to go?,' Blaine asked wistfully.

Kurt understood perfectly that Blaine's mind wasn't wandering into any uncharted territories; neither wanted to say goodbye. The closeness that came to them so naturally it still took them by surprise was everything they had ever dreamed of, timidly, barely daring to even think they'd ever experience that. Despite the short time they'd spent together, they felt like they'd known each other for years.

'I do, I have a photoshoot to supervise tomorrow,' Kurt said regretfully. Cuddling with Blaine seemed much more appealing than going back to his own place and sleeping alone.

'I wish you didn't,' Blaine mumbled, a little embarrassed to be admitting this. All his life he wished he didn't need anyone, but now there was no denying he plainly _needed_ Kurt.

And the most terrifying thing about it was how completely he didn't mind that.

'Me too, but I have to,' Kurt sighed, pulling out his phone and checking the time. 'And I have to get up in less than five hours.'

'Then go, you should get some sleep.'

Blaine's hand was still firmly locked on Kurt's, keeping him in place, but Kurt didn't even make a move to leave.

'I should,' Kurt agreed.

He pulled Blaine close, kissing him deeply, trying to remember the feeling as well as he could, until the next time he'd get to do that again. Blaine kissed him back eagerly, his mouth much less timid than it was just yesterday morning.

'I'll miss you,' Kurt whispered.

'I'll miss you, too,' Blaine replied, his heart hammering in his chest at the combination of the confession and the kisses. 'You should be going.'

'I know,' Kurt groaned. 'Goodnight, Blaine.'

As slowly as they could, they let go of each other's hands, Blaine stealing one more kiss, and Kurt started down the corridor.

'Goodnight, Kurt.'

When the door closed behind Blaine, he dropped to the floor, his head spinning. He couldn't imagine his life being any more beautiful than it was that night.

* * *

**A/N:** I've probably said it a hundred times already, but thanks for reading. All kinds of feedback are always appreciated, and I love hearing your thoughts on the story.

I've been suffering from some writer's block lately, but it doesn't mean I'm abandoning anything this easily.


	12. Chapter 12: Winnie

**Chapter 12: Winnie**

Blaine's tentative joy grew each day that went by without a transition. By the end of the week, he was beginning to believe that life without drugging himself half-unconscious without having to fear a visit from one of his alters was possible after all. He barely got to see Kurt a couple of times, but they never missed a pillow talk on the phone. There were still things they hadn't told each other, dark secrets from their pasts, difficult topics that were better off left alone in the deepest corners of their minds, but they could honestly say that they knew each other as well as they could after just a few weeks' acquaintance.

For the first time in his life since that day almost nineteen years ago, Blaine was waking up with a smile on his face. When he got up on Monday, Wes and Seb eyed him suspiciously as he waltzed into the kitchen for breakfast, humming happily. The following days brought no change in his morning cheeriness and, little by little, they ceased to be surprised.

'How about dinner tomorrow night?,' Kurt asked Blaine on Thursday night on the phone. 'My place. I'll fix something, but it's not really a date _date_, because Rachel's gonna be there, you can meet her at last.'

'That'd be nice,' Blaine said, smiling to himself. He'd heard a lot about the infamous Rachel Berry (he'd also seen her name on some theatre playbill), and had mentioned he wanted to meet her sometime.

'She's not too scary, I promise,' Kurt hastened to add. 'She can be a little intense, but you'll get used to that.'

Blaine knew his boyfriend was worried he'd freak out again, but coming from Kurt this kind of concern was welcome, giving him a warm feeling in his chest. None of the alters had appeared in over a week, but they were both painfully aware that one word or one situation could put an end to this. They didn't mention the DID any more than was necessary, but they knew not to fly too high up in their newfound peace and romance, otherwise, falling back down to the earth could hurt them beyond repair.

They cherished the moments of normalcy they could scrape out of the tough reality they were given, constantly keeping their guard up, in case it blew up in their faces.

* * *

Blaine knocked on Kurt's apartment's door a few minutes before six the next evening. The anxiety he was feeling was much milder than he'd feared, and he was able to plaster a perfectly nice smile to his face. He felt a little silly bringing Kurt flowers, but since he'd already received a bouquet, he wanted to give Kurt one too.

The door opened, revealing Kurt with a broad smile on his face, looking as impeccable as ever. It made Blaine wonder if he really was cooking, but the smell coming from the kitchen told enough not to question that.

'Hi!,' Kurt said enthusiastically and leaning to give Blaine a peck on the lips. 'Come on in, the food will be ready in a minute.'

Blaine took a step inside and offered the yellow and red roses to Kurt.

'These are for you,' he said sheepishly.

'Oh my god, Blaine, you didn't have to,' Kurt breathed, examining the flawless flowers in his hands. 'Thank you.'

Their peaceful bubble was shattered seconds later by footsteps and an obnoxiously loud voice.

'Blaine! I'm so happy to finally meet you!'

Rachel was already throwing herself at him to hug him. Kurt stopped her just a foot away, not sure if his boyfriend would be fine with getting molested by a complete stranger. To his relief, Blaine leaned forward and kissed Rachel on the cheek without any reservations.

'Likewise, Rachel,' he said, smiling at her.

'I'm starting to wonder, why I'm even here, if I don't need to introduce anybody,' Kurt muttered.

Blaine shot him an apologetic look, but Kurt smiled at him in response. He was glad they got off to a good start.

* * *

'I think it's really wonderful Kurt has found someone musical like you,' Rachel said, putting her fork and knife neatly on her empty plate.

It was nice to be talking about regular stuff like work and music, not even getting close to anything dangerous. Hearing Kurt's best friend approved of Blaine as his boyfriend was even nicer. Not that an opposite reaction to him would stop the two of them from seeing each other, but knowing they had the support was comforting. There was still Kurt's dad to worry about, but Blaine kept on pushing that thought as far away as he could.

'I'm only glad he wants me,' Blaine said simply, glancing at Kurt across the table.

Kurt's lips twitched up, as he reached to squeeze his boyfriends hand.

'Sure I do.' He turned to Rachel. 'And I'm glad you two seem to get along.'

Rachel nodded, faking a prominent pout.

'I'm still offended you haven't seen my play,' she said.

'I promise to get a ticket to see it as soon as there's an un-sold-out show,' Blaine replied solemnly, raising his hand to his heart.

'I'll hold you to that promise,' Rachel warned him.

At that, the conversation stalled. Kurt and Blaine were fine with just exchanging long looks, which made Rachel feel like a third wheel. The two of them were undeniably adorable and a cute couple, but just sitting there with nothing else to do than averting her eyes from their lovey-doveyness was plainly awkward. She did a quick review of what they'd been talking about all evening, and decided upon the easiest topic that they'd skipped before.

'So, Blaine, you haven't said anything about your family,' she began, making Kurt's heart stop for a split second. 'Do you have any siblings?'

Kurt didn't manage to stop her in time. She was too focused on Blaine to notice the horror in her roommate's eyes when she mentioned family. However, looking at him helped her realize immediately that she had made a terrible mistake.

Blaine tensed and gulped, his hands began trembling as he quickly clasped them together in front of him, trying to concentrate on nothing but the air flowing in and out of his lungs. He couldn't lose it, he just couldn't lose it. A flash of images went through his mind, old, random memories from forever ago. Happy and frustrating ones, yet somehow he'd never want to forget a single one of them.

But now they were too much. He fought to keep on breathing, to stop the pictures from appearing. Nothing worked. He could feel he was losing control, and no matter who was taking over, he just wasn't strong enough to fight them off.

So he gave in.

When Boo looked up, he grew even more scared than he already was. He'd never been in this place, and he didn't know that woman that was staring at him with an expression of confusion mixed with fear.

'What's going on, Kurt?,' she asked.

Boo knew Kurt. He was nice the last time they met, but Boo couldn't just trust him, even though Blaine apparently did.

'He transitioned. You triggered him!,' Kurt replied angrily. 'God, Rachel, I told you to be careful!'

'And what did I do? I asked about his family, what is wrong with that?'

Kurt threw his hands up in the air helplessly.

'If he doesn't mention something, don't go around asking! I told you, Rache!'

They were trying to keep their voices down, but it was still upsetting. It was like hearing Mommy and Daddy fight, and reminded Boo he didn't have anyone. He just had his Winnie, but Winnie clearly wasn't here with him. Hot tears came up to his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. A sob broke out, drawing the others' attention back to him.

Kurt examined the hunched posture, the hands clenched tightly into fists, the wet eyes and red cheeks. He was sure he still hadn't met at least one alter, but if he wasn't wrong he knew this one.

'Boo?,' he asked hesitantly. 'Sweetie, it's okay, you're safe.'

The boy looked up with his huge, wet eyes and sniffed hugely. He didn't seem convinced; there was fear and misery swimming in the hazel irises.

'I want Winnie,' he said as clearly as the tears allowed him.

Kurt nodded, reaching his hand out to Boo.

'Okay, we're going to go get Winnie.'

* * *

Holding Boo's hand felt different. Maybe because they didn't intertwine their fingers, maybe because the boy's grasp was timid and gentle. If not for the size of the hand and the familiar texture of Blaine's skin, Kurt would readily believe he was accompanied by an actual toddler.

Boo hadn't said another word since his demands to have his toy. Kurt helped him put Blaine's jacket on, repeating reassurances and the boy stopped crying, even though the corners of his mouth were still pulling downwards. After a while, Kurt started to feel silly talking when he didn't get an answer, so he shut up. He decided they should walk, rather than use the subway; people would be staring at them either way, but the train could scare Boo even more. Walking seemed like a better idea, with more control on Kurt's part in case anything happened. There was no telling what could possibly make Boo flip out, and if he lost it and ran away in the subway, he could get lost, hurt... All the possible negative scenarios came to Kurt's mind.

The walk seemed much longer than it really was, the anxiety of being out in the streets with Boo making Kurt's heart pound nauseatingly fast. With every car that passed a little too close to them, Boo shrank in himself, his hand squeezed Kurt's more tightly, and his eyes were casting frantic looks just to make sure they were safe. Kurt wasn't sure he'd learn why that was, so he didn't ask the question that kept echoing in his mind.

He knew someday Blaine would tell him what happened. For now, all he had to be satisfied with, were all the theories that he couldn't stop from forming in his brain. Even if the alters knew something, he wouldn't torment Boo to get his answers. Insisting on finding out what had happened from the poor frightened boy was indisputably cruel, and was the surest way for Kurt to lose the little trust he'd earned.

After what felt like eternity – and several strange looks from people in the streets – they arrived at Blaine's apartment. To Kurt's surprise, Sebastian was the one to answer the door. (He'd expect Seb to be out clubbing or something of the kind on a Friday night.)

'Blaine, why so soo- Oh fu- fudge,' he stammered out as soon as his eyes fell on his roommate's posture. 'What happened?'

He stepped aside to let them in. Kurt could feel Boo relax in the familiar environment, but he hadn't let go of his hand.

'My roommate said something that triggered him,' Kurt explained in a hushed voice and winced. It was his fault. Everything had been going great in the last few days, and he screwed it up by not giving Rachel a specific list of things she couldn't mention.

'Is she an idiot?,' Sebastian asked hostilely.

'No, Seb, I fucked up, okay? I know I did.'

Seb folded his arms over his chest and sent Kurt a glare.

'Sure you did. So now what? It got tough, so you brought him back for safe keeping?'

It was Kurt's turn to give him a dirty look.

'No,' he said firmly. 'I brought Boo here, because he wanted his Winnie.'

Sebastian nodded, not letting Kurt see his anger disappear. _Let's show him how serious this is._

'I'll get it.'

Turning back to Boo, Kurt noticed another change in the boy's demeanour. His lower lip was trembling like he was about to start crying again, and the hand that wasn't in Kurt's was clenched in a fist.

'What is it, sweetie?,' Kurt asked as subtly as he could.

'I don't like it when people fight,' he mumbled and sniffed.

'We won't fight anymore, I promise.'

The moment Boo caught Sebastian in his peripheral vision and saw his toy carried to him, his face lit up. He grabbed Winnie and hugged it tightly to his chest.

'I missed you,' he whispered in the bear's fabric ear. 'But nothing bad happened today. We're safe, Winnie.'

Without paying any more attention to Kurt or Sebastian, Boo snuck into the living room and settled on the sofa with his knees pulled up to his chin and the toy placed right in front of his eyes.

Kurt followed him with his gaze, slightly less agitated at seeing how the stuffed bear clearly made Boo feel much safer. It still made Kurt wonder what made Winnie so special, but he wouldn't dare asking. Sebastian, however, wasn't as tactful and reserved.

'It's Blaine's from when he was little,' Seb said, guessing where Kurt's thought had wandered. 'Winnie, I mean.'

'I figured it's important,' Kurt replied quietly.

'He hasn't told you, has he?,' Sebastian asked, scanning Kurt's expression with care.

Kurt shook his head.

'He tried telling me what happened, but- I guess it was too much.'

Another moment passed, as they watched Boo talking to Winnie urgently in a small voice. Finally, the flood of words stopped and Boo hugged the toy one more time, burying the side of his face in the worn out yellow fabric.

Kurt took a step into the room, glancing at Seb to check if it was okay. A curt nod told him to go on.

'Boo, sweetie?,' Kurt asked hesitantly.

The big hazel eyes looked up at him, much more peaceful and happy than earlier.

'Yes?'

'Would you like some hot chocolate maybe?'

Boo's face lit up.

'With marshmallows?'

Kurt frowned, and glanced queryingly at Sebastian.

'We've got marshmallows,' Seb chuckled. 'We keep some in case this guy appears.'

'With marshmallows, then,' Kurt told Boo.

There was an ounce of uncertainty in him as he leaned to place a gentle peck on Boo's forehead. The boy didn't flinch away from the touch like Kurt had expected, though. Instead, Boo gravitated towards Kurt. The soft kiss reminded him of how his Mommy used to kiss him when he still had her.

It felt strange for Blaine. The experience was entirely different from being co-conscious with Cooper. He knew he hadn't regained full control, but he was there, he could tell where he was, what was being said, who he was with. Boo was still there, Winnie clutched in his hands, but he wasn't fighting Blaine to stay. Boo's memories were laid out in the open for Blaine to see, if he only dared. He was given a way back to being himself and he wasn't going to let it pass. How could dwelling on things too painful to even think about help?

Boo's memories were better off left alone.

Blaine blinked a few times, feeling he was back to being himself, but a dead tired version of himself. He dropped his feet to the ground and looked up at Kurt with a weak smile.

'Hi,' he said.

Kurt hadn't taken his eyes of his boyfriend since he backed out from kissing his forehead.

'Blaine?,' he managed to choke out.

'Yeah, it's me.' Blaine caught Kurt's hand in both of his, squeezing it reassuringly. 'And I could really use that hot chocolate.'

* * *

**A/N:** Any thoughts? If so, hit the reviews or PM me. I love hearing from you!


	13. Chapter 13: Sessions

**Chapter 13: Sessions**

'You look particularly chipper today,' Dr. Peterson stated, when Blaine settled in the sofa opposite her on Tuesday afternoon.

Blaine couldn't help but beam at her. Friday had been a little of a disappointment because of Boo's appearance, yet the rest of the weekend went by in peace. They even managed to grab some lunch with Rachel on Sunday, so she got a chance to apologize, and everything was set straight between them. After all, he really did like her, even if she was a tad tiring in big dozes.

'I'm feeling quite good recently, to be honest,' Blaine admitted.

Dr. Peterson scanned his face that hadn't lost any of its joyfulness since he came into the room.

'Is there a specific reason for that?'

'Kurt.'

There was no hesitation, no delay to the answer. Blaine's heart pounded faster in his chest, almost making him implode with the happiness that was filling him.

'Oh. So... I take it you've met again?,' she asked cautiously.

Answering this question required Blaine to take a deep breath to calm himself. The thought of what he and Kurt apparently had now was still overwhelming.

'I guess I could say that me and Kurt are... together,' he said, stressing every word.

Blaine expected his therapist to be overjoyed or congratulate him, or at least to tell him it was good news. Instead, lines of concern appeared on her forehead, as she dropped her eyes to jot something down in her notes.

'Isn't it good that I'm happy?,' he asked in confusion.

Dr. Peterson sighed, taking off her glasses and turning them around in her hands a few times.

'Blaine,' she said finally. 'I know that this must be thrilling for you. I know this was what you wished for.'

'Then what is it?' His expression changed beyond recognition. Nothing of the earlier joy, enthusiasm and hope were left, chased away by fear and disillusionment.

'I'm afraid you might get too invested in something that won't necessarily last. I'm not saying your relationship is doomed,' she added hastily, seeing Blaine was getting angry and about to interrupt her. 'But this is still a very new thing, isn't it? I just want you to be careful.'

Blaine nodded, biting his tongue in order not to shout at his shrink. He needed to take a beat to simmer down, before he replied.

'Okay, I get it,' he said eventually. 'And I am being careful, but with Kurt it's like- I feel _calm_. And even when I don't, I don't feel like transitioning. Most of the time anyway.'

One of Dr. Peterson's eyebrows quirked quizzically.

'Most of the time? Did you transition in the last two weeks?'

'Twice. But it doesn't matter.' He really didn't want to dwell on either of those visits.

'May I remind you, Blaine, this is why we're here to begin with,' Dr Peterson reminded him. 'I need to know what happened.'

Reluctantly, Blaine gave her a short account of what he knew about both of the transitions, leaving out the more personal – as well as the more embarrassing details – like the flowers, making out and his ridiculous breakdown. What interested Dr. Peterson the most was the moment of co-consciousness with Boo that Blaine experienced on Friday.

'That had never happened before, had it?,' she asked, flipping the pages of notes in her lap.

'Never.'

'How did it feel?'

Blaine's mind drifted back to that moment, focusing on the sensation.

'I don't know... It's hard to describe.' He shook his head impatiently. 'It was like- like I was watching everything through a film, I was there, but Boo was there too. I don't know.'

'So it was different than what it's like for you with Cooper?'

'Cooper's different. He's always been different, you know that,' Blaine said, rubbing his forehead in frustration. 'It was like he- like Boo was _letting _me come back. Like he was telling me, "You can come back, it's safe now".'

'Was it safe?'

'It was.'

Dr. Peterson nodded in acknowledgement, her expression thoughtful.

'Did he communicate with you? Did he say anything?'

'No, he didn't say anything,' Blaine told her. 'It's not like he's a chatterbox, anyway. He only kinda- It felt like he was letting me in to see his memories.'

The last bit was the toughest one to admit. The knowledge what the memories held made it even harder. He didn't want to dwell on the fact that for the briefest moment he had access to _everything_ that made his life what it was, a prison that had him trapped between four personalities instead of walls. It wouldn't have changed anything to go through that. Living it once sufficed to provide him with enough trauma for a few lifetimes.

'And did you? See Boo's memories?' Dr. Peterson lowered her voice to a soothing whisper.

'No.'

'Do you regret not doing that?'

Blaine swallowed.

'No.'

'Why?,' she asked softly.

'What difference would it make?,' Blaine said a little more angrily than he'd intended. 'I know what happened. I don't have to have the visuals added to the facts. There's a reason why I don't remember. There's a reason why Boo does and I don't. There's a reason why my brain shut that off. And I've had enough of DID, PTSD, depression, and- everything else because of what happened. I don't need another round of those, just because my alter thought it was a good time to share.'

'So it wasn't a good time to share?'

Blaine rolled his eyes.

'No, it wasn't. It doesn't even matter, it would _never_ be a good time to share- _that_.'

Dr. Peterson nodded slowly; it was clear Blaine wasn't going to say anything more about his latest transition, and she wasn't going to press him. He was already stressed, and making it worse would be entirely counter-productive.

'Okay,' she said, smoothing out her notes. 'Let's go back to Kurt.'

'What about him?'

'I'd like to meet him.'

* * *

Kurt was tapping his foot rapidly on the waiting room floor. This was the first time ever he was in an actual shrink's office and it made him uneasy. Not only because it was a _psychiatrist_, but mostly because he would really hate to screw something up for Blaine.

It took him by surprise when Blaine called him yesterday to ask if he could spare an hour around lunch today to go see his therapist. Without even taking a beat to consider it, he said yes. Lunchtime was usually when everyone was sneaking out to eat anyway, unless they were about to close the issue, and that wasn't the case. Only after the call had ended, Kurt began to wonder what that could mean. It was going to be a test, that was sure. Dr. Peterson was going to see whether he was fit to be with Blaine or not.

The door to her office opened widely, revealing the woman that had to be Dr. Peterson herself. Kurt couldn't stop himself from thinking she looked like a small tree in that shapeless green sweater and brown pants. Her hair needed a gigantic doze of conditioner, _stat_, as it eerily resembled a triangle.

'You must be Mr Hummel,' she greeted him, extending her hand for him to shake, as he jumped to his feet.

'Kurt, please. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Peterson.'

'Pleasure is all mine, Kurt,' she replied with a smile. 'Let's come in, shall we?'

Kurt followed her into the room, fidgeting, but fighting to keep a polite smile on his face. The interior was the stereotypical shrink's office; walls covered in diplomas, shelves full of books on all kinds of disorders and illnesses one could find, a soft, leather sofa for the patient and a deep armchair for the doctor.

'Oh, lots of diplomas, nice,' Kurt commented, pointing a slightly shaky finger at one of the walls.

'Well, yes, I need to show off a little sometimes,' she answered with a kind smile. 'Kurt, do you have a theory as to why I asked you to come?'

His smile faltered, as he nodded.

'I suppose you wanted to test me.'

Dr. Peterson let out a short chuckle.

'Yes, you could say that,' she admitted. 'I have been treating Blaine for his DID and all the conditions that accompany it ever since he moved to New York, and...'

'Wait a second,' Kurt cut in, frowning. 'All the conditions that accompany it? What do you mean, exactly?'

'I take it Blaine never told you about his other problems?,' she asked with a sigh. Kurt shook his head. 'I can't disclose any details, as you may be aware, but dissociative identity disorder usually is linked with other conditions, including borderline personality disorder, Asperger syndrome, bipolar disorder, PTSD, epilepsy, depression, neurological disorders, and many more.'

For a second the amount of illnesses that Dr. Peterson listed knocked Kurt out of breath. Everything around him seemed hazy, and he thought he'd suffocate or break into tears, or start screaming.

'What does he have?,' he finally choked out.

'Thankfully, the number of Blaine's co-morbid disorders is below average,' Dr. Peterson said soothingly. 'Apart from his DID, I've been treating him for PTSD and depression. But as to the latter, I think we have that under control for now, and I have to admit, it might partly be thanks to you.'

Kurt nodded infinitesimally, almost smiling at the mention of him apparently making Blaine a little bit better. He couldn't, however, stop the sickening rush of memories at that dreadful acronym that preceded that.

'I did have a suspicion that he could have Asperger's as well, but further tests disproved that theory,' Dr. Peterson continued. 'He's simply very shy, and getting him to open up took some time. We've been working on that for a few years now.'

'Do you have any questions for me?,' Kurt said, gathering all the composure he could muster. 'I guess I'm ready for that test.'

Dr. Peterson smiled at him, folding her hands neatly in her lap and fixing her gaze directly on Kurt's face.

'Are you ready to embrace everything that Blaine is? I hope you do realise that being with him is going to be no picnic.'

'I'm not sure I'm ready,' Kurt began, carefully picking his words. 'But who ever is? I've made a decision to be there for him, whether as his boyfriend, or just a friend, because I figured there are never enough people one can have in their life.'

'It's very noble of you. Not to mention selfless.' Kurt could swear she looked positively impressed. 'Still, have you ever had anything to do with someone suffering from a mental condition?'

'No, I've never-' His voice trailed off as he remembered that one time in Glee club, when they were having that _Born This Way_ week, and Ms Pillsbury had them make those T-shirts that spelt out something they had to come to accept about themselves. 'Actually, I have. There was a guidance counsellor at my high school who suffered from severe OCD. But that's different-'

'It is, but that's something.' Dr. Peterson sighed heavily. 'It would be useful to have someone to talk to about dealing with things like this, though, someone who understands that not everything is in our control.'

There was a lot of truth in what she was saying. Kurt couldn't believe he hadn't thought of that earlier, and neither had Rachel. Maybe he could call Mr Schue for some advice? ODC was no DID, but was still a tough thing to handle. And he didn't have to be reminded there were things he had no power over. He winced as the memories flooded his mind again.

'I know I can't control everything,' he said, his voice quivering slightly.

His words rang in the room for a moment. Kurt dropped his eyes to the floor, his hands tightened into fists in his lap. Nothing slipped Dr. Peterson's attention.

'Kurt? Is there something you would want to share with me?'

* * *

**A/N:** First off, a thank you to TravelingMystery for talking to me about DID, which pushed me to do some more research. This chapter wouldn't end up the way it is without that.

There will be a little of Kurt's back story in the next chapter, as you might have figured out.

I haven't been writing much in _Puzzle Pieces_ in the last week or two, 'cause I'm determined to finally finish _Unintended_ before I go back to this one. I'm still a few chapters ahead, so you don't have to worry about updates.


	14. Chapter 14: Don't Hurt Me

**Trigger warning:** bullying, violence.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Don't Hurt Me**

It's getting tougher to get up in the morning. And it's not just the unwillingness to face the bullies that makes Kurt linger in bed when he's already supposed to be up. It's growing difficult to physically get up. There are bruises all over his body. He can barely prop himself up on his elbows or hands, because his arms and shoulders ache almost to the point of the pain blinding him.

He puts up a face in front of people. There's no way he's going to let this cause his father another heart attack. Carole is lovely and caring, but she'd tell Burt, so confiding in her is no option at all. Finn and the rest of the glee club know things are bad, but none of them knows just _how_ bad. Karofsky's being careful not to let any of Kurt's friends see most of it.

Kurt tries not to walk the hallways alone, but there are times when asking someone to accompany him to class gets suspicious, so he braces himself and goes on his own. Those moments he dreads the most. Those moments are Karofsky's favourite to strike. Kurt makes sure to pick up the pace and turn corners warily, as he never knows what might be waiting for him around the bend.

One of those moments is when he walks from his AP English Lit to French. None of the other glee kids take French, so he's bound to take that route alone from the point where Rachel turns left to go upstairs to her Social Studies class. He never knows why Karofsky seems to be constantly lurking somewhere between that staircase and the French classroom. But he is. Today is no different.

The hallways is exceptionally deserted, and it makes a shiver run down Kurt's spine. He clutches his books tighter to his chest, the muscles in his legs tense, readying him to sprint should the need arise.

And it does, but there is no way he could run, because Karofsky appears out of nowhere right in front of him.

Kurt staggers backwards, horrified by the other boy's closeness, before Karofsky shoves him aside without warning, and walks away quickly down one of the side corridors that leads to the locker room of the football team.

Out of complete nowhere, Kurt feels a wave of strength overcome him, and before he knows it, he's running after Karofsky, rage replacing his fear. Adrenaline is pumping through his body, making his heart race and his head clear.

'What's wrong with you?!,' he screams, as the locker room door bangs open.

'Me? What's wrong with you, _fag_?,' Karofsky sneers, but his voice sounds strained.

'I am not going to take your crap anymore,' Kurt goes on, his rage still controlling him more than anything else.

Karofsky's lips arch in a mocking smile.

'Yeah? And what are you gonna do? You can suck my dick.'

The adrenaline is beginning to wear off, and there are tears coming up to Kurt's eyes, as his fear rolls back over him. What the hell does he think he's doing? He's alone in the locker room with the person he's terrified of the most in the whole fucking world. He should be away from here, he should've never followed him in the first place.

Kurt begins to retract his footsteps, his knees buckling beneath him, until they give in completely and he slumps to the floor, helpless.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?,' Karofsky says, but the meaning of his words fails to reach Kurt.

Until his tormentor is standing directly above him with his hand hovering over his jeans' zipper, and Kurt realises what he's seeing. He almost chokes. Karofsky is definitely hard. At the thought of Kurt giving him a blowjob?

What the fuck is going on?

Is this a nightmare?

Kurt can feel nausea overwhelming him, and he never would have thought he'd feel sick at the thought of sucking someone off. Not that he's given it that much thought, but he's definitely considered it.

Only he would never imagine it this way. Not with Karofsky. Not in a stinking locker room. Not unwillingly.

He's puking before he knows it. Thankfully, it's just the floor that suffers and his outfit stays untouched.

But Karofsky wouldn't let him get away with it like that.

His stomach is clenched from the hurling, so Kurt doesn't feel much difference at first, when the foot strikes him, knocking him down. He lands with his face next to the puddle of his own vomit, the smell mixing with the usual stench of the locker room. It makes him even sicker.

Then, there's another kick to his gut, and another. He whimpers, but he doesn't have any more strength to fight the attacker off. He just lies there wishing for it to stop. He's even considering if praying isn't worth a try, but discards the idea; it's ludicrous. How is almost getting raped and being beaten in a pool of his own puke a good occasion to start believing in God?

If he ever had faith, that would probably be the moment he'd lose it.

The bell ringing reminds Karofsky where he is and that someone might notice he's gone. He sprints out, leaving Kurt alone, curled on the floor in pain.

Once the first shock is over, the pain grows stronger. All Kurt can do is curl into a ball and cry. Someone has to realise he's gone at some point. His French teacher or his friends at lunch, anyone.

But he can swear it's been hours when he finally hears footsteps. He knows there have been a few bells since he's been lying here, but he's lost count. He tries to move enough to be able to maybe see the door, but the pain in his gut is too severe. For all he knows, he could be dying right now.

'Kurt?,' comes a breathless whisper from the locker room door. 'Kurt!'

He's only able to lift his eyelids enough to see his brother leaning over him.

'Don't step into the vomit,' he mutters, like the cleanliness of Finn's shoes is the most important thing in the world.

'I don't care. What happened?'

Kurt tries to shake his head. The movement is hardly noticeable.

'K-Karofsky,' he chokes out eventually. There's no use saying nothing happened. The state he's in, the puke, it all points to _something_.

Finn might not be the brightest, but he can see clearly that somebody beat Kurt up.

'Karofsky did this?'

'Yes.' Kurt swallows; the bitter taste of vomit persists in his mouth. 'Could you get me out of here?'

The situation threw Finn off guard so much, his mind doesn't operate properly.

'Can you walk?,' he asks inanely.

'Do you think I would be here, if I could stand up?,' Kurt asks, mustering the most casual tone he's capable of.

Finn leans further, gathering Kurt in his arms. He's heavier than Finn expected, especially the way he's slumped almost lifelessly against his body.

They barely make it outside of the locker room when a sharp voice stalls them.

'Hey! Finn, what are you doing?!'

Coach Beiste emerges from around the corner, headed undoubtedly for her office right next to the locker room. She frowns at the two brothers at first, trying to make out the shape curled in Finn's arms.

'Oh my God, is that Kurt?,' she asks, her voice as shocked as terrified. 'Lay him down.'

Finn obeys and puts Kurt gently against a wall in a sitting position. He's pale and clutches his stomach with both arms. Everything hurts, but the stomach is literally killing him.

'What happened?,' Coach asks, her eyes swiping between one and the other.

'I don't know, I just found him,' Finn mutters.

Coach Beiste looks back to Kurt. The boy seems to be in a great amount of pain. His face is usually fair, but now it's like a ghost's.

'Kurt?,' Coach says soothingly, kneeling next to him. 'Can you tell me what happened?'

'Karofsky,' he murmurs. He can barely hold on to any thought, the pain occupying his attention. 'He-' The memory of Karofsky's crotch inches from his face makes him shiver and he almost pukes again. There's no need for them to know that detail. He can say he threw up because of the pain, can't he? 'He- attacked me.'

* * *

The broken rib heals slowly. The bruises fade, yet somehow the pain doesn't seem to cease. It takes time to convince himself that not everybody who comes near him wants to hurt him. It's relatively easy with his dad, Carole and Finn. Someone must've warned his friends not to get to close, though. Kurt knows they're afraid to be around him. Afraid they'll say something they shouldn't, afraid to laugh, afraid he'll freak out at the slightest touch.

Kurt also knows that they're probably right.

He comes back to school a month later, his body almost healed, but his soul as broken as it was. It seems gluing it back together is more time-consuming than letting the contusions disappear.

People eye him furtively, as if catching his gaze was deadly. He hates it. He hates every second of it.

But at least everyone seems to be moving out of his way, so he doesn't feel threatened. At least not as much as he feared he would in a hallway full of people.

Kurt walks up to his locker warily; there's no guarantee they didn't seize the opportunity to write something offensive on it. The locker's metal door is clean, though, and he breathes out in relief.

He opens his locker, and for a moment everything seems fine, just like it used to feel before anything happened.

Something jumps at him from behind and he screams, falling into the wall of lockers and freezing. He can't even bring himself to look around. He can hear someone is speaking frantically, but he can't catch a word of it. He can feel he's been left alone, clutching at the edge of his locker like he was hanging from the edge of a precipice.

Kurt tries to breathe to calm himself, but it's not working. He feels like he's drowning, every sound is muffled, every intake of breath is painful.

Suddenly, he realises there are no more sounds, only the frantic beating of his heart. Sharp pain goes through his fingers. He lets go of the locker, expecting a long fall and lethal impact when he hits the ground.

But he's still in the McKinley High hallway, leaning on the line of lockers. His knees are about to give in, and he lets them.

That's when he notices Rachel, with her hands over her mouth in horror, and Finn keeping her firmly away from his brother.

'I'm so sorry, Kurt,' she whispers in the eerie silence that fell over the hallway. 'I didn't mean to- I forgot that you- I'm so sorry.'

* * *

Telling Dr. Peterson that story felt strange. Kurt had never been in therapy, not really. Those few sessions with Ms Pillsbury and her pamphlets could hardly qualify as therapy. And reliving the nightmare of those few months was harder than ever now, when he'd almost pushed it out of his head.

'Did you seek help?,' she asked quietly.

'No.' Despite the tears that were still streaming down his face, the answer was firm.

'Why?'

'I got over it.' Kurt shrugged, cursing how easily he broke down into tears.

'Clearly, you haven't,' Dr. Peterson said. 'Not really, anyway.'

Kurt forced himself to roll his eyes.

'So now what? You want to psychoanalyse me or something? Do you want to be my shrink, too?' His voice became involuntarily icy. ' Or do you want to tell me I'm no good for Blaine, because I've got my own issues?'

She listened patiently until he stopped. Her expression didn't change; it was still the same look of sympathy and understanding she'd been wearing while listening to Kurt's story.

'No, Kurt, I wasn't going to say any of those things,' she said. 'Dragging someone to therapy against their will is nothing but counterproductive. And I think that what you've just told me gives you an insight into Blaine's condition that only someone with a trauma of their own is capable of.'

That was an answer Kurt didn't expect in the slightest. He was afraid his visit to Dr. Peterson's office would end badly, if not for him or his relationship, then definitely for Blaine.

'So- what exactly _are_ you trying to tell me?,' he asked, frowning in confusion.

'That you are probably the best boyfriend Blaine could ever wish for.'

Kurt gaped at her for a moment, lost for words. That was something he never expected _anyone_ to say, let alone Blaine's therapist.

'Th- thanks, I guess,' he mumbled.

'You're welcome.' Dr. Peterson paused to think, before asking, 'Have you had another panic attack like the one you just told me about since then?'

Kurt shook his head.

'It was just this once. I told you, I'm fine.'

'But you are aware that it was post-traumatic stress that caused it?,' she asked softly.

'I guess.' Kurt shrugged. 'But I really got over that. Even though it was tough being stared at and called "psycho". At least they got a different name to call me, aside from "fag" and "homo".'

Kurt winced at the memories. It had been a long time since he ventured a journey down that path. Coming to New York was his fresh start, and it was a good one. His college years were probably the best he'd had since his mother's death and until now, when he had Blaine.

'This is what I mean, Kurt,' Dr. Peterson said. 'You know a little of what it's like for him. Your PTSD might have not lasted like his has, or like his DID will likely last, but most people don't have any such experience, and few are truly capable of empathy and understanding. Most can only pity.'

'Does that mean that- we have your blessing?,' Kurt asked uncertainly.

Dr. Peterson gave him a warm smile.

'I'm not sure I'm the right person to give you a blessing, but I guess you do.'

* * *

**A/N:** I was afraid I wouldn't be able to update today, 'cause life got in the way, but I somehow managed. If there are any stupid mistakes I overlooked, forgive me, I was in a hurry proofreading.

I feel bad about making Dave the villain here. But he needed to fill that role, unfortunately.


	15. Chapter 15: Deflection

**Chapter 15: Deflection**

'How was it, then?,' Blaine asked later that afternoon.

He came around Kurt's office to take him out to coffee after work. His appearance elicited curious looks from Kurt's co-workers and a deep blush – that almost covered up his pride of being Blaine's boyfriend – from Kurt himself. After all, it was the first time he ever had a guy pick him up from work. A few pairs of eyes scanned Blaine from head to toe with interest, and Kurt could see a couple of his female colleagues were disappointed when the gorgeous guy approached him.

'It was- strange,' Kurt answered plainly.

'Meaning?'

Kurt shrugged uncomfortably. He wasn't sure talking to Blaine about his shitty high school experience was a good idea, especially in public, where a transition to any of the alters would be more problematic than at home.

'Meaning that I felt like I was guest-starring in an episode of _In Treatment _or something.'

Blaine knitted his brows. His boyfriend was uneasy, clearly keeping something from him, and his therapist had something to do with that.

'Wait. She analysed you?'

'Sorta, yeah.'

The reply made Blaine sure Kurt was holding something back. Knowing it could cost him losing control – like he almost had when Kurt told him about his mother – he decided he was willing to risk it.

'What did she want you to tell her about that made you so- uncomfortable?'

Kurt winced, for once hating how in tune they were with each other, how well Blaine had already gotten to know him.

'Just some- stuff from back in high school,' he mumbled, tracing his fingers nervously around the brim of his coffee cup.

There was the tiniest tremor in Kurt's voice, but it didn't slip Blaine's notice. Kurt wasn't the only one who had gone to school in Ohio, after all.

'Stuff from back in high school?,' he asked softly. 'Do you mean like- bullying?'

Kurt fixed his eyes firmly on his cup, dreading that if he lifted them, Blaine would see the tears welling up in them. Crying in Dr. Peterson's office was different than breaking into ugly sobs in the middle of the crowded Starbucks right next to his office.

'Yes,' he choked out eventually.

A brush of Blaine's fingers on the back of his hand made him look up.

'You can talk to me about this, you know?,' Blaine said quietly. 'I know I tend to freak out and transition when he topics get serious, but I want you to know that you_ can_ tell me things. I feel guilty I'm the only one with issues here.'

The corners of Kurt's lips fluttered up. Thinking back to his junior year in high school was still hard, but the knowledge Blaine was willing to listen and risk a visit from one of his alters to make sure Kurt was getting the support he needed was comforting.

'Don't worry, we both have issues, you're not that special,' he teased as light-heartedly as he could.

'But Dr. Peterson didn't tell you we shouldn't be together?,' Blaine asked, voicing the question that had been bothering him since the day before.

Kurt smiled, catching Blaine's hand that was still covering his with its fingers.

'No. She seems quite happy about this, actually,' he said smugly. 'She's on our side.'

* * *

'Will you stay for dinner?,' Kurt asked, as they reached the door to his apartment. 'I'm not cooking tonight, but I assure you, Rachel's cooking is quite eatable, too.'

Blaine chuckled.

'I wish I could, but I have some stuff to go over before my next gig, plus, I'm not sure Rachel wants me around very often.'

Kurt nodded with understanding. He still hated saying goodbye so soon.

'She just needs to get used to having to share me,' he said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 'I'll call you, okay?'

'Sure.'

Kurt leant in to collect his goodbye kiss, to which Blaine responded eagerly. The door behind them clunk, catching their attention and causing them to break apart.

'Guys?,' Rachel said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. 'I hate to interrupt you this kind of a sweet moment, but- Kurt, um- I guess you should come in.'

For a second Kurt thought he could strangle Rachel for that. But then another figure appeared behind her, familiar, beloved and clearly concerned.

And he was certain he was capable of strangling her.

'Dad! What are you doing here?,' Kurt asked, uneasiness sweeping over him.

He had mentioned his boyfriend to Burt, without any details or word of mental disorders. There was no need to burden his father or give him reasons to worry, when there was no way of knowing if the relationship would last. But clearly, his best friend didn't share the opinion.

'Rachel invited me,' Burt said, eyeing Blaine cautiously. 'Aren't you gonna introduce me?'

'Yes, I am, of course,' Kurt mumbled. 'Dad, this is my boyfriend, Blaine Anderson. Blaine, this is my Dad, Burt Hummel.'

Blaine hadn't moved since the door opened. The presence of Kurt's Dad caught him off guard, thankfully not enough for him to lose his grip on reality. When Burt spoke, Blaine somehow felt calmer, instead of freaking out. His voice seemed familiar and oddly comforting, and Blaine thought it had to run in the family.

'Nice to meet you, Mr Hummel,' he said, extending his hand to shake Burt's.

'You too, Blaine,' Burt responded, not taking his eyes off of his son's boyfriend for even a second. 'And call me Burt.'

Once the hands were shaken and introductions ended, an awkward silence fell upon them. Kurt knew he had to have a conversation with his father, preferably in private, but at the same time he hated for Blaine to leave. A glance at Kurt sufficed his boyfriend to know this was his cue, though.

'I guess I should get going,' he muttered. 'It was a pleasure, Burt, Rachel. Call me, Kurt?'

Kurt's answer was a small nod, and Blaine pecked him on the cheek, before starting down the stairs. Kurt suddenly felt his nervousness grow. No matter how awkward the situation was, having Blaine by his side was reassuring.

'Why don't we come in?,' he suggested shakily.

Kurt was the last one to enter and he slid the door close. The apartment felt unusually stuffy for a chilly October evening, so he loosened his tie as he slumped on the sofa. His eyes followed Burt as the older man cautiously approached the armchair opposite.

'Rachel told you to come to hold an intervention, didn't she?,' Kurt asked, going straight to the point, as soon as his friend disappeared in her part of the apartment.

'She did,' his father admitted. 'She was worried about you.'

Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance.

'There's no need. Everything's fine, Dad.'

Burt eyed him sceptically. Apparently, Rachel had told him enough for him to form an opinion and worry as well.

'So what about that boyfriend of yours?'

'What about him?,' Kurt said. 'You just met him. His name's Blaine, he's a musician and he's a kind, well-mannered and caring person.'

A sigh escaped Burt's lips.

'I believe you when you say that, I really don't doubt that he is all these things,' he said. 'But he's sick, Kurt.'

There was no denying that piece of information. Kurt cursed Rachel's big mouth and folded his arms across his chest.

'And?'

'And I'm not sure if you can handle this,' Burt stated openly.

'Do you even know what kind of a disorder Blaine suffers from?,' Kurt asked.

'Rachel mentioned something called DI- something. I don't really speak that shrinky mumbo-jumbo.'

Kurt took a long breath and reminded himself that his dad meant well. If anyone could understand him, it was his father. He'd at least try to understand.

'It's DID, Dad, dissociative identity disorder,' Kurt said patiently.

'Rachel said something about alter egos, some kid with a funny name... What was that about?'

'Well,' Kurt went on with the explanations. 'Blaine has other personalities who- take over whenever things get too hard for him. Rachel met one of them when Blaine came over for dinner.'

Burt let the information sink in before asking another question.

'So that kid- it was an alter ego?'

'Yes, that was Boo.' Kurt nodded. The conversation was wearing him out.

'You said "one of them",' his father continued. 'How many are there?'

Kurt bit his lip, searching his mind for the answer. Nobody had ever told him the exact number of Blaine's alters, so he had to rely on the information he did have.

'As far as I know, there are four.'

'Four,' Burt repeated, trying to wrap his mind around that. 'As far as you know? He didn't tell you?'

'It's a difficult subject to discuss, Dad,' Kurt hastened to explain.

'Kiddo, you two are a couple, you have a right to know that.'

Kurt rubbed his temples in frustration. His father was right, but he was also quite convinced he wasn't wrong himself.

'I know, Dad. He just- He needs time. He'll tell me everything when he's ready.'

'What everything?,' Burt asked, his concern growing instead of dwindling as the conversation progressed.

'Everything about what happened to him,' Kurt said, thinking back to that time they had tried talking about it. He had a theory as to what could have taken place, but that wasn't something he'd bring up in a discussion with his father just yet.

'So something happened that made him get that DI- something?'

'Yes.'

They fell silent for a spell. Kurt felt exhausted as if he'd just ran a marathon, but having this talk behind him was a relief. He only regretted having to go through that and the session with Dr. Peterson in one day.

'Just tell me one more thing, Kurt,' Burt said eventually. 'Is that disorder he has curable?'

'It's manageable,' Kurt replied evasively.

'That's not what I'm asking, don't deflect.'

'You're asking if he's going to be sick indefinitely,' Kurt stated, resigned. 'Most likely, yes.'

* * *

**A/N:** Don't think I'm writing Burt as a bad person, I probably could never do that. He's just being a caring, overprotective parent who wants all the best for his son.

I started writing Chapter 21 today, which means I'm still some 5 chapters ahead. I'm not going to speed up posting, though, 'cause real life's catching up with me, and will get me much more involved in some stuff in the nearest future. Just remember that I'm not abandoning this fic. No way.


	16. Chapter 16: Torn

**Chapter 16: Torn**

As soon as Burt's snores filled the apartment, Kurt snuck out onto the fire escape with his phone. It was already quite late, but among the things he'd learnt about his boyfriend by now was that on a regular day he rarely went to sleep before midnight.

He wasn't wrong, and Blaine picked up after two signals.

'I was beginning to think you forgot,' Blaine joked without greeting trying to cover up his nervousness.

'Of course not, just- I was a little busy.'

For the first time in Kurt's life, not telling the entire truth felt so much like lying.

'Your dad came here to tell you to break up with me, didn't he?,' Blaine asked, unable to hold the question back any longer.

'What? No!'

Kurt's voice shook and gave in before he could say anything more.

'He didn't come to tell you to dump the psycho or anything like that?' A tinge of mockery entered Blaine's tone, but the person he was jeering was himself.

'Of course not, he didn't even know you were sick until tonight!'

A minute passed without either saying a word. As long as Kurt didn't have a response from Blaine, he couldn't do anything, but press the phone to his ear and wait. Wait for Blaine to speak. Or for anybody else that could take his place.

'You- You didn't tell him?' The voice was Blaine's and Kurt could tell he was on the verge of tears.

'I told him about _you_,' Kurt replied firmly. 'About you, Blaine. You and your illness are two separate things.'

That was mildly relaxing to hear, even though Blaine couldn't agree.

'We're not, Kurt,' he said. 'I wish we were, but that's just not the case. And your father deserves to know who you're dating.'

'But he knows! Your illness doesn't matter!,' Kurt insisted, despite the awareness that Blaine was perfectly right.

'Put yourself in his shoes for a moment,' Blaine said quietly. 'He's your father, he doesn't want you to be with someone like me, don't deny that.'

Since the moment Kurt saw his dad at the apartment, he'd been trying to convince himself that wasn't the case. Burt would understand. He'd be supportive and loving, as he'd always been, no matter what. Still, the fear that it wouldn't be as simple this time was lurking in Kurt's brain, and Blaine's words seemed to validate it.

'He's just worried,' Kurt mumbled finally.

'Of course he is.' Blaine swallowed, trying to get rid of the bile rising in his throat. 'So he didn't tell you to dump me yet?'

'Blaine, stop this.' It hurt to hear him speak like that. There was no way Kurt would leave him now. There had been no going back since the beginning. He'd been invested in this, and no one was going to convince him to retract. 'He'll get it when he gets to know you,' he added as firmly as he could.

'Do you really think it's a good idea?, Blaine asked doubtfully. After all, the last time he'd met someone important to Kurt, he transitioned in the middle of dinner.

'Yes,' Kurt answered. 'Come round mine tomorrow night, I'll fix something to eat, and you two can talk and bond, or whatever.'

Blaine took a deep breath, calming himself a little. Freaking out over this wouldn't do any good. It was just going to be a friendly meal with his boyfriend and his father. And Rachel, but she'd probably be more considerate now. He was going to be fine.

'Okay,' he said finally. 'I just hope you're right.'

* * *

It was going great. The dinner was delicious, the atmosphere friendly and welcoming. Rachel was clearly checking every word she wanted to say fifty times before actually uttering it. Blaine assumed Kurt had scolded her for that one disaster and ordered her to keep to neutral topics.

Burt was nice. Maybe not perfectly polite, but straightforward and genuinely kind-hearted. His son was everything to him and it showed, making it impossible for Blaine not to like him. No dangerous subject was brought up, and – despite his nervousness – Blaine managed to stay himself and not let the last dinner fiasco repeat itself.

When their plates were empty and Kurt forced Rachel to help him with the dishes, Burt got up and strolled up to the window that looked over the street, beckoning Blaine to join him. With his heart pounding nauseatingly loud in his ears, Blaine obeyed, walking as slowly as he could to buy himself some time to calm down.

'You two are serious about this?,' Burt asked, going straight to the point.

'I think so,' Blaine said in a small voice. 'I am, I can't really speak for Kurt, but I think he is, too.'

'Do you love him?'

The question caught Blaine off guard. Not that the thought of naming the feelings he had for Kurt that hadn't crossed his mind, but he had always been cautious with the word.

'I- I don't know,' he answered warily. 'Maybe. Probably. I- I just don't want to say it before I'm sure.'

Burt nodded shortly, fixing his gaze somewhere out the window. He didn't seem to be completely at ease; still, there was no doubt he wasn't even half as anxious as Blaine.

'Good,' Burt said at last. 'Don't you ever tell him that if you're not sure.'

'Does that mean you're fine with us being together?'

The question hung in the air for a moment.

'I'm not _fine_ with it,' Burt sighed. 'You see, Kurt's been through a lot. He hasn't had an easy life, you know?'

Blaine wasn't sure that was an actual question, but he nodded nonetheless.

'We lost his mom, that was hard enough on him,' Burt went on. 'And, then there was that Neanderthal that bullied him…' A glance at Blaine's surprised expression told him clearly the boy didn't know the details. 'High school was rough on him. Thank god he was smart enough to break up with that boyfriend of his before he got his heart broken.'

Of that Blaine was more aware. Kurt had mentioned his first boyfriend from back in college a few times. The relationship didn't last long, Kurt ending it as soon as he'd realized that jealousy and possessiveness on Jason's part didn't go along with the kind of fidelity and loyalty he'd expected.

'I'm not going to break his heart,' Blaine said earnestly.

Burt smiled sadly at him.

'I know you wouldn't do that on purpose, kid. But it's not like you always know what you're doing.'

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, stopping the words halfway out. Burt was right. There was no use denying, because that was the truth. The undiluted, brutal truth that had to finally be accepted as just that. The truth. He had to admit that no matter what his feelings were, what Kurt's feelings were even, it was best to cut things short before they got too serious. Before either of them got hurt beyond repair.

'Don't get me wrong, Blaine,' Burt said, putting his hand on Blaine's shoulder. 'I think you're a good guy. Kurt wouldn't be so sure about you if you weren't. I'm just trying to look out for him. I worry, like any old man would.

The words were reaching Blaine's brain as if through a thick fog. He almost laughed mockingly at the last sentence. Well, his father definitely _wouldn't_ worry. He wouldn't even care. Blaine couldn't even tell if he was more hurt by the fact that Burt didn't share his son's faith in him, or that near everything he said was painfully true.

Before Blaine had the time to gather his thoughts to respond, Kurt interrupted their conversation, bubbly and cheery at the sight of the two of them talking. He could see Blaine was still nervous, but meeting the parents was important and naturally nerve-wrecking.

Another hour was spent rather peacefully on coffee, TV and light-hearted chatter. None of these could take Blaine's mind off the conversation he'd had with Burt, though. The words were haunting him, tormenting every cell of his being. Only the hand that Kurt had locked on his kept Blaine from losing it.

Finally, whatever they were watching – Blaine couldn't focus enough to determine what it was – ended, and Kurt offered to walk his boyfriend home in a hope for some time alone and a kiss goodnight.

Despite Blaine's birthing resolve, he agreed. If he was going to do this, they'd at least be alone when he does. Nobody else had to see this.

'You're quiet,' Kurt said after they'd gone a few blocks in silence. 'Did my Dad tell you something?'

'No- not really.'

The lie sounded weak and Kurt wasn't fooled.

'Blaine, I know he told you something, if you don't tell me now, I'll ask him.'

Blaine groaned in frustration. He was still fighting with himself. Did leaving make as much sense as it seemed to him at first? Was Kurt going to be happier, better off without him? Why was he even asking himself that? Both answers were a short, confident "yes". And if he really did love Kurt, he'd give him the freedom to be as happy as he could be.

Being with Blaine would bring him nothing but misery.

'He didn't really tell me anything I shouldn't have already known,' Blaine said bitterly.

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks.

'Blaine, what's going on?,' he asked warily, dreading the answer. He could swear he knew what it was going to be.

By the time Blaine slipped his hand from Kurt's grasp, he was sure.

'Blaine, don't do this, please, don't do this,' Kurt whispered, his voice breaking.

They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, silent, both on the verge of tears. Saying the words that would end everything was impossible, so Blaine was grateful Kurt figured out his intentions.

'There's nothing I can give you,' Blaine said. 'And you deserve everything. You deserve the best, and I'm not even mediocre.'

Kurt shook his head frantically, desperately trying to find his voice.

'It's not true. Don't say that,' he managed at last. 'Don't, Blaine, don't do this.'

'I was selfish to believe this would work, Kurt,' Blaine said. 'You should have a good life, you should be happy. I hope you will be.'

With that, he turned away from Kurt, and started fast down the street. Tears were flooding his eyes and he barely could see where he was going.

'But I'm happy with you!,' Kurt called after him, unable to move his feet to catch up with him, to stop him from walking away.

It took all of Blaine's willpower to keep his legs moving forwards. He'd decided there was no going back. The most wonderful time in his life was over, just as it was bound to be from the beginning. Now every next step was taking him further from the budding hope that maybe, just maybe, he could have a life like everybody else.

And now he was alone again. Completely fucking alone.

'You're not alone, Blainey,' Cooper said.

'Shut up,' Blaine told him, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. As if crying like a baby in the middle of the street wasn't enough, now this had to happen.

'A little respect for your big brother,' came the indignant answer.

Blaine stayed quiet and picked up the pace. He had to get home before somebody noticed what was going on and got him locked up and pumped full of drugs. Though maybe that would be a good thing? Meds would numb him, maybe even enough to dull this pain. How could he even think he'd be able to function without them? Hoping he'd get a chance to live like a regular person was so ridiculously naïve he could barely believe he'd ever think it possible at all. He wasn't normal. Nothing about his life was normal. It couldn't simply, miraculously change as soon as there appeared someone who was willing to overlook it.

'Running, Blainey? Seriously?,' Cooper started again. 'Be a man, baby bro.'

'I am not going to talk to you,' Blaine said through his teeth, praying for none of the few passers-by to pay attention to them. To _him_.

He sped up a little more. Just another block and he'd be safe at the apartment. Wes and Seb would be around, and – hopefully – Cooper would leave. He wasn't little Blainey anymore, he didn't need Cooper. Exactly the same way he didn't need Winnie, didn't need Boo, or Kathryn, or Liam. All he needed was Kurt.

And yet there he was, fleeing from him and towards them.

* * *

Kurt had been standing there frozen for at least five minutes before his feet started to feel like maybe they could move again after all. Tears were streaming down his face, but he didn't really notice them. He cried silently, without a sob, too stunned to speak since his pleadings failed and Blaine disappeared around the corner.

But now he could at least move, so move he did. Without thinking, he started the same way Blaine had a moment ago.

He'd stop him. He wasn't going to let him go that easily. He wasn't going to let him go, period.

At first it had been just a way of filling a void, but it took one night spent with Blaine in his arms for him to get invested heart and soul in this. Now there was no going back to a life without Blaine. Because a life without Blaine would be as easy as it would be empty.

He pushed his feet faster on, thinking of nothing else than getting Blaine to believe this wasn't the way to go.

When he arrived at Wes' apartment, a few voices could be vaguely heard in bits of speech from inside, but he was unable to make out the words. He could swear he heard Blaine, Wes, Seb and another person, sounding disturbingly familiar to his boyfriend. But _that_ was impossible.

Kurt knocked impatiently on the door, bracing himself for the tough conversation he was sure they were going to have. The voices on the inside died.

Sebastian opened the door before him. His expression was one of exhaustion combined with irritation.

'Just in time,' Seb said, letting Kurt through. 'He's been here five minutes and I've already had enough. I'm telling you, don't ever have teenage kids, they're a nightmare.'

'What?,' Kurt asked, bewildered, twirling around to face Seb.

'Oh, so you haven't- Oh.' Seb winced, pursing his lips. 'It's probably best to see this.'

Still not fully aware of what was going on, Kurt followed Sebastian into the living room. Wes was sitting at the counter that divided it from the kitchen and he acknowledged Kurt with a nod. But Kurt wasn't looking. His attention was consumed by Blaine, who was muttering to himself by the window, his back to the room.

'Cooper, don't be rude, say hello to Kurt,' Sebastian said, sounding possibly as much like a strict parent as he could.

Blaine turned around in a graceful movement, a cocky expression on his still tear-swollen face.

'Hello, Kurt,' Cooper said in a slightly mocking voice.

Before Kurt had time to respond, Blaine's face changed dramatically and he caught his temples with his hands.

'Go away, Cooper, please,' he groaned. 'I don't need you, just go away.'

This was the worst of his transitions. He had never felt this embarrassed, this helpless. Kurt was watching him as he pleaded his brother alter to leave him alone, and that was something he'd hoped would never happen.

'He transitioned?,' Kurt asked quietly.

'You could say that,' Seb replied. 'This is what it's usually like with Cooper, though. And he's an annoying little piece of shit.'

'Hey!,' Wes scolded him. 'Yes, he's not the most charming of them, but he's not that bad.'

Kurt listened to them, uncertain whether it was okay for him to go to Blaine. Cooper was apparently still there, and he could not be very happy about this. One more weak plea, though, was enough for Kurt to step in. Blaine was now on his knees, clutching his head so tightly his knuckles went white.

Kurt knelt next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He had no idea what he was doing, but hoped his instincts wouldn't be wrong and he'd deal with Cooper like he'd dealt with the others.

'Blaine?,' he said quietly, making him lift his puffy eyes and drop his hands. 'I'm here, okay? I'm not going anywhere. Don't tell me to anymore.'

Unable to do anything else, Blaine nodded.

'Cooper? Are you still here?,' Kurt asked uncertainly.

Blaine's expression immediately changed into a smirk.

'Let me guess, you wanted to tell me you two don't need a chaperone,' Cooper said.

'I just wanted to talk to Blaine,' Kurt replied calmly. 'So if that's okay, could you-'

'Fine,' Cooper grumbled, rolling his eyes. 'Just don't you dare hurting my baby bro, or I'll cut you.'

Trying not to let his confusion show, Kurt swore not to do Blaine any harm. His boyfriend blinked a few times, feeling Cooper's presence slipping away. He was himself, only himself again. And again, Kurt was there, kneeling in front of him, reassuring and comforting.

Kurt cast a glance at Wes and Sebastian.

'Guys, could you give us a moment?'

'Of course,' Wes said, and hurried out of the room, dragging his roommate after him.

Without saying another word, Kurt got up and helped Blaine up. They settled quietly on the sofa, hands linked and eyes averted.

'So... That was Cooper, huh?,' Kurt said after a moment.

'Yeah,' Blaine confirmed. 'I'm sorry you had to see this.'

'I'm kinda glad I did. Like I said, I'm not going anywhere, Blaine. I know you didn't mean to break up. You just thought I didn't want you enough to handle this. But I do, I really do.'

Blaine was too exhausted to argue. And as much as he thought he wasn't the right choice of boyfriend for Kurt, he needed him to be in this exact spot at that moment.

'I just wish I could be normal, so that you didn't have to deal with this,' he said quietly.

'I know. But this is my decision, okay? I want to be here. I don't want anyone else. I love _you_.'

Blaine's breath hitched in his throat at the words, and the sheepish smile that tugged on Kurt's lips when he realised what he'd just said.

'I think I love you, too,' Blaine whispered, overwhelmed.

'You didn't have to say it back, you know.'

'I wanted to,' he insisted. 'Loving someone is wanting whatever is best for them, and that's what I want for you.'

Kurt leant to place a kiss on Blaine's cheek.

'I know that,' he breathed. 'And I think you're what's best for me.'

'So you won't let me leave?'

'Not unless you mean it,' Kurt said solemnly. He bit his lip, torn whether or not he should ask the question that had been bothering him ever since his short exchange with Cooper. 'Can you tell me something?'

'What kind of something?'

The hazel eyes were boring into Kurt's face, and he sighed deeply, hoping he wouldn't cause another transition.

'It's about what Cooper said. He called you his baby bro. Why?'

Blaine nodded infinitesimally, dropping his gaze.

'Because he is my brother. _Was_ my brother.'

'What happened?,' Kurt asked quietly.

The answer didn't come for a long time, but he didn't rush Blaine. No other alter was emerging, even though Blaine began to tremble slightly. Kurt traced his fingers soothingly down his back and it seemed to be helping.

'We were in a- a car accident when I was little. I don't really remember anything, I just know what people have told me. It was bad, we hit a tree and- You know, the car was totalled, it was like half the size after that- Cooper and my Mom- they didn't make it.'

* * *

**A/N:** So, this is something I had planned to write almost since the conception of the story. I dreaded it, and I'm still unsure about it. I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	17. Chapter 17: The Trauma

**Chapter 17: The Trauma**

They have already passed the city limits and the landscape is changing. There are few houses now, everything's plain, dark green and lonely. This reminds Blaine that even though there's Cooper next to him in the backseat, he feels terribly alone.

'Mommy,' he says in his timid, little voice. 'Did you pack Winnie?'

His mother glances at him from the passenger seat, a worried look entering her face.

'No, I didn't, I thought you'd take him with you to the car,' she explains. 'Oh, Boo, I'm afraid you'll have to manage the few days without him.'

Blaine's eyes fill with tears. He shouldn't be crying, he's a big boy now. Four-year-old boys don't cry after a stupid stuffed toy, but this isn't just any toy, it's his Winnie. Ever since his mother read _Winnie the Pooh_ to him, Blaine can't stop imagining his Winnie is just like in the book. They are best friends, they talk and they are there for each other. He can tell the bear everything. How Cooper laughs at him sometimes when he tries to dance or sing. How Daddy sometimes screams and it scares Blaine. How Mommy forgot she promised to bake him cookies last weekend.

Mommy also knows that Blaine can't sleep without Winnie. The soft fabric under his fingertips is the only thing that gets him through the darkness in his room at night. It makes him feel he's not alone and he's safe. How is he supposed to sleep away from home without Winnie?

'But Mommy, I need Winnie,' he says finally, sniffing a little.

She reaches her hand to her younger son and pats him on the knee.

'Sweetie, you have other toys with you. I know Winnie's special, but you'll have to be brave, okay?' She smiles soothingly at him and Cooper rolls his eyes. This is ridiculous.

Now there's no stopping to the tears that have been building up in Blaine's eyes and rich streams of them pour down his cheeks.

'Can we go back, Mommy? Please? I need Winnie,' he sobs.

Blaine can't see his father's face, but he knows he'll be angry. Still, he's willing to risk Daddy's anger, if it means he'll get Winnie and will be able to tell his friend all his worries and troubles.

'Richard,' Mommy says to Daddy in a hushed voice, 'let's go back, it won't take too long. Blaine's going to be upset without that toy.'

Daddy grumbles something incomprehensible in response, not really bothered by his son's problems with falling asleep. There has to be a moment when a child learns to deal with things without clutching a stuffed animal, after all. Maybe that's the moment when Blaine should give up this ludicrous fantasy that the bear is his best friend. He's not Christopher freaking Robin.

'Come on, we set off early, we still have time to go back and not be late,' Mommy keeps on insisting.

Cooper decides he doesn't want to hear them fight again, so he steps in to support his Mom.

'Dad, he won't quit whining the whole of the Thanksgiving weekend if he doesn't have that stupid bear,' he says.

Blaine is a little offended his brother called Winnie _stupid_, but he's grateful for the intervention. Cooper can be brusque or annoying sometimes, but Blaine knows his brother would never leave him alone. They are brothers and that means a lot. They love each other, no matter how much Coop teases him.

'Fine,' Daddy says finally. 'But this is the last time I'm doing this.'

They all know he's mad about this. Changing his plans to somebody else's liking is about the last thing he ever wants to do. He hates doing this, no matter who is asking him to. And the whole purpose of going back is so ludicrous it pisses him off even more. He steps on the gas a little harder than necessary after they make a U-turn. The car lunges forward and Caitlin shoots him a concerned look.

'Don't go so fast, we won't be late,' she says to calm him down.

He's still seething. Why couldn't she just check if Blaine had the toy with him or not? She was supposed to take care of the boys' baggage. God, she was their freaking mother, it was her responsibility.

Blaine is a little cheered up. He won't have to be alone, and if any of his cousins tease him again, he'll have Winnie to talk to. He smiles happily to himself and looks out the window. The rain has been pouring since early morning and the road is shiny from all the water.

'Richard, slow down a little, please,' he can hear his mother say in the front seat.

'I'm not going over the limit, Cate,' Daddy retorts, still angry and Blaine's expression falls. No matter what, he hates hearing his Daddy like this.

They're almost back to Columbus. Richard wishes they were already back to going the right direction, so he doesn't slow down. Everything is fine, he's an excellent driver.

But a turn comes and he takes it a little too fast, the wheels skid and no matter what he does, the car is spinning out of control and away from the road. He tries to brake, but fails and the trees lining the road grow terrifyingly big in front of his eyes. The car revolves one more time and comes to a halt with a deafening screech of bent metal and clink of shattering glass.

Blaine knows something is wrong, when his mother screams and so does Cooper. Then the impact comes almost ripping him from the car seat, but the belts hold. It takes a moment for his ears to readjust to the sudden silence. Nobody says anything. There's a lot of glass everywhere and the insides of the car have suddenly shrunk by half. Cooper is much closer than he was before and he's not moving. Blaine nudges his brother's shoulder with his hand to wake him up. It doesn't work.

'Coop?,' he says in a small voice, reaching with his hand to pull Cooper's chin up.

There's something warm and wet dripping down Cooper's face and Blaine retracts his hand to see what it could be. It's red and thick, and sticky. Blood. Like the time he fell in the playground and hurt his knees, scraping the skin off. But there's so much more of it, it scares Blaine. It can't be good. And Cooper is still lying there motionless.

'Mommy?!,' Blaine calls desperately, hoping she's not asleep like Cooper. 'Mommy, Cooper is hurt!'

No response.

He tries to struggle out of his seat, yanking at the seat belts, but they don't give in. Trying not to get the blood on his clothes makes it even more difficult, but Mommy would be angry if he stained his brand new smart outfit. He leans as far out as he can, restrained by the belts, and manages to touch his Mom's shoulder.

Only then he notices that her neck is twisted oddly, and her head rests on her shoulder. She still isn't answering, even though he's been repeating "Mommy, Mommy" for a good minute now. His voice grows louder and more hysterical. He notices there's something dark on the airbag that blew up when they hit the tree. It's brownish, and it makes him sick to think it could be blood.

'Daddy!,' he tries, but there's no response either.

Blaine can't remember ever feeling this alone, and the cold air from outside creeps into the crashed vehicle, causing him to shiver, as if the fear and helplessness he's feeling wasn't enough.

There are fresh tears rolling down his face, but he doesn't even really notice. There's something wrong with Cooper, and Mommy, and Daddy too maybe, but he hasn't seen any blood. He's alone, completely alone and he can't even tell Winnie how scared he is, because Winnie isn't there with him.

And it's all his fault, because he asked to go back. Mommy and Cooper, and Daddy, they all would be alright, if he wasn't such a cry baby and didn't beg to go back and get Winnie.

But he needs Winnie, he just needs Winnie, he's crying and he needs to hug Winnie, so he could stop, because Winnie helps him stop crying, and he just needs to stop crying. If only he stopped crying, maybe he could help somehow. He needs to stop crying.

Before he manages to stop the sobs that keep shaking his frame, somebody opens the door on his side and even more cold air rushes into the car.

'Come on, buddy, let's get you out of here, I'll help you,' a male voice says, and someone unbuckles the belts that have proved too confusing for Blaine's shocked mind. 'Help is coming, let's get you out,' the man keeps repeating soothingly, but Blaine is still trembling all over and he barely can hear anything.

Then, strangely soon, he's in an ambulance and he can hear another siren nearby, but he doesn't really know what's going on. He's going to the hospital, but shouldn't there be four ambulances, not two?

At the hospital they give him something that makes his mind even hazier, but he feels calmer. They run around, and roll him in a wheelchair for tests, without him fully registering what's going on. He's fine, nothing hurts, he wishes he could go home to Winnie, but they wouldn't listen to him. They act weird, exchanging sad glances and stopping themselves before speaking freely.

Blaine doesn't understand why, until a nurse wheels his Daddy into his room. Daddy must have been crying, because his eyes are red.

Blaine expects Mommy and Cooper to follow soon after, but nobody else comes. There is nobody else to come.

* * *

They'd been sitting huddled without a word for an hour. Silent tears were flowing down Blaine's face, but he didn't care to wipe them away. Kurt had his arm around his boyfriend's hunched shoulders, and kept on stroking his hair soothingly. Blaine's story was vague and lacked details, nothing more than a recount of information other people had given him, facts mixed with hearsay. It had still cost him an enormous amount of effort to tell it to Kurt. Every now and then he had to stop for a moment, concentrate on Kurt's closeness and breathe, try to detach himself from what he was saying. It worked well enough for him to remain himself. Cooper and all the others stayed stashed away in his brain.

'Are you okay?,' Kurt asked finally.

'As okay as I can be, I suppose.' Blaine's voice was thick from tears and he cleared him throat. 'So now you know.'

'Thank you for telling me.' Kurt hesitated, the hand he was stroking Blaine's head with stopped suddenly. 'Can I ask you one more thing?'

With a pang of fear in his chest, Blaine nodded.

'Why did you never tell me you had PTSD and depression, aside from DID?'

Blaine sighed, burying his face in his palms. He hadn't even considered Dr. Peterson sharing this information with his boyfriend.

'They're not as... important. Not as prominent, I guess. And-'

'And?'

Blaine raised his still wet eyes on Kurt helplessly.

'I didn't want you to run away.'

'I wouldn't. I didn't when you told me about the alters, did I?,' Kurt asked.

Blaine shook his head infinitesimally.

'No, but that was just one illness, not three.'

Taking Blaine's face between his hands, Kurt peered deep into those hazel eyes, not letting them turn away.

'I'm not going to run away and I wouldn't, no matter how many alters you would have or how many disorders you would suffer from.'

'I really wish I could believe this,' Blaine whispered weakly.

It pained Kurt to hear that, but he swallowed the pill. After all, Blaine had every right to be worried, when even his own father couldn't handle his problems.

'You don't have to believe. You'll see,' Kurt said, placing a soft kiss on Blaine's forehead.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm updating early, because I can't wait to post this chapter.

So that's _the_ flashback. Blaine doesn't remember any of it or anything for almost a year after the crash. Boo has access to those memories, though. And there's one thing about the crash that I hope none of you realise, so that you can be surprised next week.

Thanks for reading and all the feedback! You are the reason why I write at all.


	18. Chapter 18: The Invitation

**Chapter 18: The Invitation**

Burt was still up when Kurt arrived back at the apartment, even though it was already past one.

'What kept you so long?,' he asked. He couldn't shake the feeling Kurt was angry with him.

'Blaine transitioned, and then he came back and we talked. He needed me, Dad,' Kurt said, deciding it was better to keep to the undiluted truth.

'Transitioned as in- he wasn't himself?'

'Something like that.'

Kurt started heading towards his side of the apartment, but his father stopped him midway.

'Kurt, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I can see the way you are with him. The way you two are around each other.' Burt sighed deeply. 'I'm just not thrilled you fell for someone who won't make your life any easier.'

'I love him, Dad,' Kurt said quietly. 'If there's one person in the world that doesn't want him to be sick anymore, it's me. But I'm not going to turn my back on him just because he has this thing.'

'I know, kiddo. I worry, that's all.'

Nodding in acknowledgement, Kurt resumed walking towards his bed. He really needed to sleep after the evening he'd had. Before drawing the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the apartment, he turned around to bid his father goodnight.

''Night, kiddo,' Burt replied. 'And you know, I really liked that guy.'

The corners of Kurt's lips tugged up infinitesimally.

'I'm glad you did.'

* * *

Burt was leaving late the next morning. Despite his father's protests, Kurt insisted on seeing him off to the Grand Central for his train back to Ohio and called the office he wouldn't be in before lunch.

'You don't have to skip work just to put me on a train, kiddo, I'm not senile yet,' Burt grumbled, even though he was glad to spend a couple more hours with his son.

'They'll manage without me, I don't have anything urgent to do anyway,' Kurt said, dragging his father's suitcase after him into the crowded hall of the station.

The Ohio-bound train was already up on the big electronic board, so Kurt handed the bag back to his dad, before giving him a long hug.

'Look after yourself, Dad, okay? And let Carole do that, too.'

'I know, I know, no red meat, rabbit stuff, you don't have to remind me,' Burt said with a warm smile.

'Okay. So I guess I'll see you on Thanksgiving?,' Kurt asked.

'Sure, kid. You and Blaine are both invited.' Burt stopped for a moment, frowning. 'Unless he's going to see his family or something.'

'I don't think that's going to happen,' Kurt replied with a flash of sadness crossing his face.

'It's so bad with his folks he won't even go see them on Thanksgiving?,' Burt asked as subtly as he could.

'There's only his father left, and their relationship is- Well, from what I gather, it's nothing like ours,' Kurt explained sadly. 'But I'm sure Blaine will be happy to come to Lima with me.'

'Carole will want to meet the kid, so better convince him to come.'

Burt's train was announced on the speakers, urging the passengers to take their seats.

'I'll convince him. Call me when you're home, okay?,' Kurt said.

'Sure, kiddo. Love you.'

'I love you, too.'

* * *

The evening Kurt and Blaine were spending quietly, snuggling on the couch and taking advantage of the peace that came from Rachel having another if her sold-out shows. Peace was also welcome after the events of the previous night. Blaine still had his doubts whether his staying with Kurt was fair and right by his boyfriend, but he decided that as long as Kurt wanted him around, he wouldn't try to run away again. And if the way Kurt held him was any indication, he really did want him around.

'My Dad invited us over for Thanksgiving,' Kurt said, breaking a spell of silence.

Blaine's body stiffened against him, raising his alarm.

'Thanksgiving?,' Blaine asked with his throat clenched.

'Blaine, calm down, okay?,' Kurt said, locking his eyes on his boyfriend's. 'We don't have to go, if that would make you uncomfortable.'

For a moment, Blaine couldn't respond in any other way than by shaking his head.

'I- I'd love to go, but- I- I'm not sure I can handle it.'

'Why? The rest of my family will love you, too, you'll see,' Kurt assured him.

'It's not about your family, it's about mine,' Blaine interrupted him a little too abruptly.

Kurt was taken aback by his boyfriend's sudden outburst, but made an effort to remain calm and gentle.

'I thought you had only your father left and that you were estranged,' he said.

Blaine nodded sharply.

'Because that's true. I meant-' He gulped for air desperately, as if he was drowning. 'I meant the- the crash- it happened on Thanksgiving, 1998.'

'Oh.' Kurt searched his mind for something to say. 'So, if you don't want to go to Ohio, we'll stay in New York and we'll have our own little Thanksgiving dinner and our own turkey. I make one hell of a cranberry sauce anyway, we don't have to go-'

He forced himself to be enthusiastic, even though he'd already started imagining introducing Blaine to his step-mother and brother, walking around Lima and pointing out places like his high school or his friends' houses. It was a bit of a disappointment, but he couldn't let Blaine know that and make him feel guilty, since ultimately it wasn't his fault.

'I really want to go,' Blaine insisted. 'It just might be too much. I haven't even been home since my Grandma's been gone, and- The memories are just- Sometimes it's too much.'

'Hey, listen,' Kurt interjected. 'We don't have to decide now, okay? We still have some time to buy plane tickets and let them know we're coming. You can think about it and figure out, whether you think it would be alright or not.'

Blaine attempted a smile and nodded.

'Maybe if I get used to the thought it'll stop freaking me out,' he said.

'Just remember that if we go, I'll be there with you, I'll be there _for_ you, every second you need me.' Kurt gave him an encouraging smile. 'I'll hold your hand, I'll hold you if you need it, and if any of the others appear, I'll be there for them, too.'

'Thank you,' Blaine whispered in reply. 'Can I ask you to do one more thing for me, if we do go?'

'Anything.'

Blaine swallowed, the words he was about to say put together in one sentence could never cease to terrify him.

'I want to go to my Mom and Cooper's graves.'

'Okay,' Kurt said simply. 'Whatever you need.'

'It's just that I haven't been there in years, apart from Grandma's funeral, and last time I went before that- it wasn't me who came back home.'

'I can handle that, Blaine,' Kurt assured him, squeezing his hand.

Blaine let out a bitter chuckle.

'Oh, usually you can handle Boo, but that time- Well, Grandma was always great with him, but then- From what she told me, it was a nightmare.'

'Maybe it would be better this time,' Kurt said quietly. 'We don't even have to find out. Just think about it, okay?'

'I will.'

* * *

And think about it Blaine did.

He turned the idea in his head a million times, picturing all the paths his visit could go. For one, he imagined meeting the rest of Kurt's immediate family, and them swooning over how wonderful he is and how happy he makes Kurt. But those visions were consistently followed by ones in which he transitioned into Liam and hit on Kurt's straight brother, or into Boo, disturbing a family celebration with crying for Winnie. Obviously, he was usually able to keep it together around his boyfriend, but what if something triggered him? That would end up in a disaster after which no family in their right minds would give them their blessing.

On the other hand, as much as he'd enjoyed his last Thanksgiving with only Seb and Wes to keep him company, he longed for a family holiday. Even back when his grandmother was still alive, their Thanksgiving dinners were quiet and lovely, the absence of Caitlin and Cooper marring the celebrations. The scarce rest of the family was scattered throughout the country, with only Richard left in Columbus. But Blaine's father would have rather done anything else than spend a civil evening with his son and mother-in-law. Visiting the Hudson-Hummels for Thanksgiving presented an opportunity for Blaine to soak up all the warmth and love he'd missed out on in the last nineteen years.

Unless, of course, his presence ended up a catalyst for disaster.

Then his thoughts reluctantly turned to the suggestion he'd made to Kurt. He'd been considering going to the place his mother and brother were buried ever since he came back from his grandmother's funeral. Then only the gigantic amount of psychoactives and sedatives that he was on kept him going through the short visit in Ohio.

Blaine didn't really know what he expected from going there. It couldn't possibly have any positive effect on his mental state; if anything, it was likely the alters would start acting out. Cooper wouldn't suddenly understand he wasn't real, that he was just a coping mechanism Blaine's brain had developed.

Going to their graves could only bring back the emptiness of the first months Blaine remembered. They weren't the months right after the accident. He couldn't remember anything until almost a year later, all the memories of the time were stored away somewhere deep in his brain, in a place that was accessible only to Boo. Or maybe he would be reminded of the few happy moments from before the crash, the limited amount of his own memories of his mother reading him stories before bedtime, of Cooper teasing him and messing up his hair. The times when it was just the three of them, without Richard's shouting and the constant fights.

Every time Blaine went through these scenarios, he began to wonder whether it would be good to go back to those memories he usually shunned from. The knowledge there was a time when he was healthy, loved and cherished was confusing and bittersweet. Was he supposed to appreciate what he once had, or cry over what he'd lost?

And then he'd think again about Kurt, how loved and cherished he was beginning to feel now thanks to him, despite being sick, how the visit in Ohio could open up for him the possibility of having an actual family. Obviously, it wouldn't equal the one he'd lost, it was impossible to replace Caitlin and Cooper in his heart, but that could be _something_.

Two days after Burt's departure from New York, Blaine gave Kurt his answer.

Yes, they were going to Ohio for Thanksgiving.

* * *

From the moment Blaine told him the date of the car crash, Kurt couldn't shake the feeling there was a significance to Thanksgiving 1998 that he failed to recognise. He went through his memories of all of his Thanksgivings as a child, but the late 90s were still vague. All he remembered was that his mother was still alive, constantly surrounding him with love and light.

Finally, the thought of his mother, her bright smile at him from the passenger seat of their old station wagon turning into an expression of concern and sadness. He remembered the dark cloudy day and rain streaming down the car windows. He's been watching the droplets race down the glass most of the way from Lima, until his mother turned to tell him they were almost there. And then they saw the car wreck on the roadside, tangled like thin copper wires almost all the way around a tree. His mom told him not to look, but he snuck a peek anyway, while his father ran out of the car to get help.

Burt was gone a long time, until well after the ambulances arrived. And when he came back, he looked nothing like the man who'd left. Until Elizabeth's death, that was the worst shape Kurt had seen his father in.

Nobody spoke a word later that day in the car. Burt only regained his voice when they reached his cousin's house, where the dinner was hosted that year.

'We got held up, 'cause there was this accident,' he said plainly on arriving. 'I called 911 and all, but two of them... The little boy and his father lived, though, thank God.'

That piece of memory, buried deep within Kurt's mind with the rest of unnecessary details, made him freeze. What were the odds, after all? There were countless accidents taking place daily, thousands of little boys surviving them and losing their mothers. He wasn't even sure it really was that year.

But everything fit. Four people; two dead at the scene, the father and his little son surviving. Thanksgiving, late 90s. The outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. The car hit a tree. Totalled. _Everything fit_.

As soon as the fist shock wore off, Kurt grabbed his phone and dialled Burt's number.

'Dad?,' he said without a proper greeting.

'Hey, kiddo, what's up?'

'Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something.'

'Sure, shoot,' Burt replied, slightly concerned by the sound of his son's voice.

'Do you remember Thanksgiving 1998?'

Silence fell on the other end of the line, but Kurt wasn't certain it was because his father was trying to recall the day, or because he remembered it all too well.

'I do,' he responded warily after a moment. 'Why are you asking?'

Kurt swallowed, trying not to break down at having his wild theory basically confirmed.

'Dad, there was a boy in the car that crashed, right? You got him out.'

'I did, Kurt, but what does it matter now? It was almost twenty years ago.'

'That boy- Dad, I think that boy was Blaine.'

* * *

**A/N:** Some of you figured out where I was going with this. Damn you, smart people! I thought I was being subtle, but that apparently isn't my strong suit. Hopefully, you won't foresee some other things that are gonna happen, and that still are just in my head.

I hoped I would have the chapter ready to post by yesterday, but real life got in the way, as it's been doing a lot lately. So if I'm ever late with an update, hold tight, it just means that for once I'm being responsible and I'm putting my thesis before my fanfics.


	19. Chapter 19: Going Crazy

**Chapter 19: Going Crazy**

Carole listened carefully to her husband's story, unsure how to react. She'd known all along how profoundly good Burt was, and now she felt like she got the ultimate proof. At the same time, her heart was breaking for that boy she hadn't even met yet. From what Burt told her, it seemed Blaine had never lost consciousness, not for a moment, which meant he saw half his family die in front of him.

'No wonder it messed with his brain, no normal person would get out of something like that without some damage,' Burt concluded. He was still overcoming the shock that struck him with Kurt's revelation.

For a second he had wanted to tell his son he had an overactive imagination and dismiss the whole thing. But then the terrified face of that little boy came before his eyes and he could immediately tell where the similarities with Kurt's boyfriend lay. Those funny eyebrows, the hazel irises shaded by long lashes, the dark hair that now seemed unnaturally neat, and then had been a huge tangled mass of curls.

Blaine was the boy from that car, and the only thing Burt could do was ask if Kurt intended to talk to his boyfriend about it. Kurt didn't know.

'Poor thing,' Carole said, shaking her head at the boy's fate. 'I can't imagine what he must've been through.'

'You know, I guess it's even worse that I _can_,' Burt told her with a deep sigh. 'Having lost Ellie like that, and seeing their car then. I mean, it was like half of it was gone. They almost wrapped around that tree. It's a miracle that kid didn't have more than some scratches after that.'

'I suppose what he got out of it is much worse,' his wife pointed out. 'If he had broken bones, a concussion, anything like that, he'd heal, and the illness that he has...'

Burt nodded thoughtfully. Kurt and Blaine had been on his mind constantly ever since his return from New York. He'd been wondering if he had done everything right, if he hadn't say the wrong things, if he hadn't made a mistake by inviting them to Lima for Thanksgiving. Kurt's phone call gave him the answers to all of his questions.

'I'm just sorry I didn't know this earlier,' he said. 'I could've done things differently, you know?'

'I know, honey.' Carole smiled at him. 'We'll make it up to him on Thanksgiving.'

* * *

Ever since putting the pieces together, Kurt's mind had be consumed with the ultimate question whether or not to tell Blaine about it. He was quite certain that with the absence of memories from the accident, it would be an entirely new bit of information for Blaine. He also had already learnt that talking about the crash was extremely stressful for his boyfriend.

For once he was glad they didn't manage to see each other for a couple of days.

And by the time Saturday rolled around, and Kurt showed up at Blaine's apartment for their lunch date, he'd made up his mind to keep what he'd figured out to himself. At least for now.

'Hi,' Blaine greeted him, surprised slightly by the grocery bags Kurt was carrying, and stepped aside to let him through. 'I thought we were going out.'

'I know, but I thought that maybe we could stay in and I could fix us something,' Kurt explained, before stealing a kiss from Blaine.

'Sure, I'd like that.'

They exchanged smiles and made their way to the kitchen. Kurt unloaded his shopping, revealing a few types of vegetables, chicken breast and olive oil, followed by a choice of spices.

'I had no idea what you had home,' he said, 'and usually you only have light in the fridge, so I got everything we're gonna need.'

'So what are we doing?,' Blaine asked. 'I can help you, you know.'

Kurt shook his head firmly.

'No, I'm cooking, you can watch. And it's nothing big, just a salad dish.'

'Okay, if you say so.' Blaine sat down at the counter, raising his hands in surrender. 'But if you need anything, I'm at your service.'

'I'll keep that in mind,' Kurt replied with a soft smile.

He began preparing the chicken, so it could cook well before putting it into the salad, and Blaine watched him closely. There was no way for him to remember what his boyfriend was doing, he was so consumed by Kurt's graceful movements and the way he glanced at him from under his lashes. Blaine noticed for the first time how beautiful and delicate Kurt's hands were.

He was watching those hands as Kurt chopped the cucumbers, and as he went on to the tomatoes. For a split second, Kurt looked up at Blaine to smile and maybe tell him lunch would be ready promptly. That split second was enough for the knife to slip to Kurt's finger, slicing it.

In a reflex, Kurt dropped the knife, suddenly distracted by the tingling in his shallow wound and the surprisingly big amount of blood that oozed out.

'Shit,' he muttered, jumping to the sink to rinse the cut.

It took him a short moment to realise Blaine hadn't said a word. Kurt jerked his head around to look at his boyfriend and all the air left his lungs, leaving him breathless.

Blaine as still sitting at the counter, frozen apart from the visible movement of his chest, up and down, up and down, hyperventilating. His eyes were fixed on the half-cut tomato, it's leaking juice mixing with the darker red of Kurt's blood.

Kurt grabbed a piece of paper towel and wrapped it closely around his injured finger to stop the bleeding. Hiding the blood along with the wound from Blaine was probably also a good idea. Then he leapt to his boyfriend, and with all his force, he turned Blaine around on his stool, forcing him to look away from the bloodied tomato.

'Look at me,' Kurt said. 'Blaine, look at me.'

His breathing was still frantic and too deep, but at least he obeyed, locking his gaze with Kurt's.

'Good, that's right,' Kurt went on soothingly. 'See? Nothing happened. I'm here, see? It's okay.'

Slowly, Blaine's breath evened, and he squeezed his eyes shut to push the image of the blood out of his head.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled. 'It's just that blood- freaks me out.'

Kurt nodded, taking Blaine's hand in his uninjured one.

'It's fine, really.'

'Would it still be fine if I told you I lost my appetite?' Blaine winced; he hated being a disappointment.

'We can eat later. Now I guess I have to clean this up.'

Insisting he didn't need help, he settled Blaine on the living room couch. Then he went on to remove the blood stains and threw out the spoiled tomato. He cleaned everything that came to any contact with his blood thoroughly, and found a BandAid to put on his cut in the first aid kit in the bathroom.

When everything was clean and only the BandAid reminded of Kurt's klutziness, he returned to the living room to find Blaine curled up with his arms around his knees. It was difficult to say if he was more depressed or mad.

'I always have to screw things up,' he said angrily.

'You didn't screw up, I did,' Kurt disagreed. 'I could've known about this, I could've guessed. I should've been careful, that's for sure.'

Blaine shook his head impatiently, raising his eyes helplessly at his boyfriend.

'You couldn't have known, I don't even know why exactly I react like this. I know it's because of the PTSD after the- But I don't know anything more.'

Kurt perched on the edge of the couch and put a hand on Blaine's shoulder in comfort. The decision he'd made before wavered.

'I could have known,' he said slowly. 'I could have known and I think I _do_ know why.'

Blaine was almost on the edge of breaking down, trying to do anything not to cry or transition.

'You can't know that. There's just one person who knows what exactly happened, and I'm pretty sure Boo didn't tell you, 'cause he doesn't say anything about it.'

'Actually,' Kurt began cautiously, 'there is another person that was there. And I have talked to him.'

'How? You talked to my father? Anyway, he was unconscious, he knows nothing more than I do-'

'Not your father, mine.'

Blaine stared at him blankly for a moment, stunned by the revelation. He could feel his jaw drop open, but couldn't close it again.

'But- how?'

'Someone called 911, right? Someone got you out of the car. Someone stopped to help. And that was my Dad. That was us.'

'Us?,' Blaine asked, his throat clenched.

Kurt nodded sadly.

'I was there, too.'

Silence fell for a moment, as Blaine processed the news. The coincidence was unbelievable, but it did explain why Burt's voice sounded familiar, why it seemed so calming to him. His appearance could've changed through the years, but his voice remained the same, and Blaine's subconscious recognised it somehow.

'When did you figured out it was that crash?,' Blaine asked weakly.

'I figured it out after you told me when it happened. The date seemed significant for some reason, and I put it together.'

'And your dad?'

Kurt shook his head and pulled Blaine closer.

'He didn't recognise you, but he remembers everything,' he said.

A thought crossed Blaine's mind, terrifying and intriguing at the same time. He turned it around in his head before speaking again.

'Do you think I could talk to him about it?,' he asked in a small voice.

'Do you _want_ to talk to him about it?'

Blaine shrugged helplessly. His eyes felt wet from the unshed tears that seemed to be choking him.

'I don't _want_ to. It wouldn't change anything. I've just had this _need_ to know what exactly happened. What it was like. How I got this thing. And I'm not sure if Boo will ever be willing to show me that again, so there's no way for me to know.' He sniffed hugely, rubbing away the two lines of tears that silently streamed from his eyes. 'And all my father's ever told me about the accident was that it was my fault.'

Kurt traced his fingers soothingly down Blaine's arm, but his boyfriend was still upset, unable to stop the emotions he'd kept bottled up for too long from pouring out.

'It wasn't your fault, Blaine, you were a child, you didn't drive the car into that tree,' Kurt told him softly.

'But I was the reason why we were there in the first place. If it hadn't been for me, we wouldn't have turned back, just because I forgot a stupid toy.'

'Winnie?,' Kurt asked in a whisper.

Blaine nodded sharply.

'Apparently, I couldn't fall asleep without him, and we were going away for a couple of days, so I needed him. And now dad will never stop reminding me that I killed Mom and Cooper over a toy.'

He started to hyperventilate again, setting the room in a circular motion in his head. Kurt tried calming him down, but without much success. It took him long minutes to force Blaine to look at him and stop the whirling, as his breathing evened.

'You did not kill them, do you hear me?,' Kurt said firmly. 'It was an accident, a set of bad circumstances, a coincidence. Just like it was a coincidence that I was there. It wasn't your fault. You are not the villain here, Blaine, you're the victim.'

Blaine nodded without much conviction, and covered his puffy face with his hands for a moment.

'Do you know what's strange?,' he asked, looking up at his boyfriend again. 'That you're the one who gets me through this. And that if somehow we had met back then- maybe there would be nothing to get me through at all. Maybe if we'd met, I wouldn't have got this thing.' He put a fist to his forehead with a glum chuckle. 'Maybe wouldn't have been so alone, maybe I wouldn't have gone crazy.'

* * *

**A/N:** I rushed through the proofreading, because I desperately wanted this out today, and by some miracle I managed to. If I overlooked any stupid errors, forgive me. The chapter probably could be better, too.

In case you haven't followed my other story, _Unintended_, I finished posting it on Sunday. So if you're interested, check it out!


	20. Chapter 20: Future Mr Hummel

**Chapter 20: Future Mr. Hummel**

October ended and November began in relative peace. Blaine hadn't transitioned since the last of Cooper's appearances, and hadn't had a panic attack since that unfortunate lunch date. Instead of focusing on the past or his disorders – which he was determined not to do – he put all his efforts in composing. He'd given up his attempts at songwriting when he realised his audiences tended to prefer covers, so he decided there was no point in continuing his endeavours. Now, however, he had a new source of inspiration in the person of Kurt.

New melodies and chord progressions were sneaking into his mind, filling him with joy and a tentative pride. He was still unsure about all of his songs, refusing to let Kurt hear them, but they kept him in a better mood than he remembered ever being in, especially without medication.

Ever since that first gig, Kurt hadn't missed out on a single one of Blaine's performances. They always took place in one of a few small bars scattered all over Manhattan, and each of them had its own specificity. On the Friday after Halloween, he was playing in the biggest of the bars that hired him. The interior was a mixture of brick, glass and metal, filling it with a strange fusion of warmth and cold. The small podium was lit from behind, enveloping Blaine in a bright halo. Kurt took up a strategic position right in front of the stage and gave his boyfriend an encouraging smile, as Blaine sat on the stool with his guitar.

'Hi, everyone,' he said to the microphone. 'My name's Blaine Anderson and I'll be trying to entertain you tonight. First off, I wanted to play this old Keane song, and dedicate it to my wonderful better half. Kurt, this is for you.'

The dedication caused Kurt's head to spin, partly because of the astonishment, but mostly out of the sheer happiness. Blaine sang _Somewhere Only We Know_ hardly removing his eyes from Kurt, and when the song ended, his boyfriend was the one who clapped the loudest and longest.

Next Blaine proceeded to play _Wish Upon A Star_ and Kurt settled himself comfortably to listen, when a sudden sharp tap on his shoulder made him jump back up and turn around.

'Santana!,' he exclaimed, almost loud enough to drown down Blaine. 'What are you doing here?!'

He threw his arms around his friend in a bear-hug. The last time he'd seen her was on huge posters promoting her nation-wide tour.

'I'm having a quiet night out in NYC,' she responded with a wide smile.

'This is quiet?,' Kurt asked dubiously.

'In comparison to being up there, yes.' She waved towards the stage and sat at Kurt's table without bothering to ask if the seat wasn't taken. 'So- that cutie's yours?'

Kurt blushed and bit his lip to stop the silly grin that was forcing its way to his lips.

'Yeah. The dedication kinda gave it away. I don't think there are many other Kurts in this joint.'

Santana nodded with a chuckle.

'He is pretty good,' she said. 'Where did you find him? Don't tell me you're his only groupie.'

He sent her a glare.

'No, actually, we met at a gay club,' he said. 'Sort of.'

'Lady Hummel goes to gay clubs, that's a new one.' She elbowed him playfully. 'Did you have a brain transplant or what? And what do you mean, "sort of"?'

'Well, to be honest, I went there once and I'm not planning on repeating the experience, thank you very much,' Kurt told her sarcastically. 'Blaine isn't much of a clubber either, so we kinda fit together.'

Santana rolled her eyes at him, crossing her arms over her chest and her very deep neckline.

'Oh, like little pieces of the same Disney-themed jigsaw puzzle,' she chimed. 'So how did this happen? And again, why "sort of"?'

'It's a long story, Santana, and I'm not sure it's even my story to tell.' She frowned, opening her mouth to speak, but he raised his hand to stop her. 'The important thing is that it's been a month and I'm happy. He's happy, too, and that's much more than either of us expected.'

'Okay.' She eyed him suspiciously, but let it go. 'I'll figure it out at some point anyway.'

Kurt barked out a bitter laugh.

'I don't think so, not even your Mexican third eye could figure this one out.'

They spent the rest of the set catching up and listening to Blaine play, with a couple of interruptions from people who recognised Santana and asked for a photo. Kurt was still in awe for his boyfriend's talent, and his admiration seemed to only grow stronger. The loving stares he sent towards the stage were duly reciprocated, and Santana could tell that there were moments when nothing in the world existed for the two of them except each other.

'Does he have any original stuff?,' she asked Kurt when Blaine was playing the last encore.

'He does, but he wouldn't let anyone hear it, not even me. He's a little self-conscious about it, and he says people like covers better.'

'Maybe his songwriting skills suck,' Santana remarked, earning an angry look from Kurt. 'Okay, okay, he's definitely the awesomest songwriter that has ever graced this earth.'

'Yes, thank you.' Kurt smiled at her, nodding his head in conviction.

A few minutes later, Blaine jumped down from the stage with his guitar still in hand and greeted Kurt with a kiss on the cheek.

'How was it?,' he asked, before realising there was someone else at the table.

'Amazing, as always,' Kurt replied brightly. 'Blaine, I'd like you to meet-'

Blaine's eyes darted to the brunette and bulged when he recognised the face that he couldn't make out earlier because of the lighting.

'On my god, you're Santana Lopez!,' he blurted out and blushed.

'The one and only,' she confirmed. 'That was a pretty good set, even though it lacked beat and was kinda sappy.'

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Blaine looked back to his boyfriend.

'Yeah, well, so that's Santana, don't listen to her, this is how she talks,' Kurt told him.

'You _know_ Santana Lopez?,' Blaine asked incredulously.

'Me and Lady Hummel here went to high school together,' she explained.

'Same glee club,' Kurt added, eliciting an even wider smile on his friend's face and an even greater shock on his boyfriend's.

'Right, you're from Ohio,' Blaine said. 'It's nice to meet you, Santana.'

'Likewise, future Mr. Hummel.'

She flashed them a smug grin, as they exchanged quick uneasy glances.

'It's a little early to call me that, I guess,' Blaine mumbled.

Kurt nodded vigorously, feeling his cheeks burn. He hadn't admitted to Blaine that the thought of their wedding would enter his mind from time to time and it was very appealing, even though Blaine was right to say it was too soon to discuss it seriously. Still, Kurt couldn't help his heart skipping a beat, when Blaine didn't really protest beyond stating their relationship was in its infancy, although Santana had probably forgotten his name and that was the entire explanation of calling him that. But what mattered was the tiny smile that crossed Blaine's lips at her words.

* * *

'That glee club of yours must have been something,' Blaine said later that night, snuggling closer to Kurt. 'National champions, former members on Broadway and Top 40. Ex-Warblers are only bankers or lawyers, or struggling musicians.'

'May I remind you that a former leader of the New Directions, a.k.a. my step-brother, works in my Dad's tire shop, and that is not much of an achievement,' Kurt replied jokingly. 'But yeah, Santana and Rachel have made it and I'm happy for them. And you'll make it, too, someday.'

Blaine sighed and Kurt ran his fingers through his boyfriend's neatly gelled hair.

'I probably won't, but playing bars isn't so bad, and I don't really have to worry about money, 'cause my Grandma left me everything, so-'

'So basically you're loaded,' Kurt stated, unsure whether he should be upset Blaine hadn't shared that piece of information. 'I guess I should've known, Dalton and all.'

'It doesn't really matter.' Blaine shrugged. 'My Grandpa made a lot of money in real estate, Grandma sold his business after- you know, so that she could take care of me twenty-four seven. I don't even remember Grandpa. And the money doesn't make any difference at all. I can pay for therapy and meds, and live comfortably in New York, but I'm still sick. No matter how loaded I am, the crap in my life won't just go away.'

Kurt pressed his lips to the top of Blaine's head, tears welling up in his eyes. If he only could, he'd give up everything to make Blaine healthy.

'I know, honey,' he murmured. 'I wish it wasn't like that.'

Blaine nodded weakly, but stayed silent. His mind drifted off to their conversation with Santana, who turned out to be quite lovely, when you looked past her brusque façade. She also didn't look down on them, like he'd expect from someone with a celebrity status.

'You know that thing Santana said...,' he broke the silence tentatively.

'Which one?'

'When she called me "future Mr. Hummel",' Blaine explained, sitting up to look at Kurt. 'I wouldn't mind that.'

'You mean marriage?,' Kurt asked uncertainly. 'I thought you said it was too early-'

Raising his hand, Blaine silenced him. He'd already started saying what he wanted to say and he needed to finish.

'It _is_ too early,' he agreed. 'I want to get married at some point, though, and right now I can't imagine my husband being anybody other than you. And I really hope you feel the same way.'

'I do,' Kurt interrupted.

Blaine smiled at him, pausing his speech just for a moment.

'What I meant, though, was that I wouldn't mind taking your name. If that was okay with you.'

'Why?,' Kurt asked simply.

With a sigh, Blaine fell back onto his bed. It was depressing it say all of this out loud. Hearing those words would feel like validating them even more.

'Because I don't really feel like an Anderson,' he said. 'All my life, I've never been close with that part of my family. My Mom and Cooper were my family. My Grandma. Not the Andersons.'

'What about your father?'

Blaine rolled his eyes, trying to detach himself from all the toxic things that would flood his mind whenever he thought of Richard Anderson.

'I barely remember anything about him from before,' he said quietly. 'He was constantly working. Or screwing his secretaries. I'm not sure which one he did more often.' He snorted with disgust. 'It was mostly just me, Mom and Coop. And when he was home, I remember it quite vaguely, but my Grandma told me it was all true- They were fighting all the time. It wasn't a good marriage, not even close. My Mom didn't divorce him, because she was Catholic, she believed in the whole "till death do us part", she took it very seriously. I can't help but think that if she had, maybe we wouldn't have been in that car that day. Anyway, I don't have many good memories that would have to do with him. Whether he wanted to or not, no matter if he even knows that, he's made my life hell.'

His voice trailed off. Despite how hard saying these things was, his chest felt much lighter. He glanced at Kurt, who'd been listening with a sad, sympathetic expression and squeezing Blaine's hand tightly.

'If this is what you want,' Kurt said, 'if we do get married, I'd be honoured to share my last name with you.'

'Thank you,' Blaine whispered back with gratitude.

* * *

**A/N:** At first I'd thought I wouldn't be able to incorporate Santana into this story, but then the storyline that's beginning in this chapter came to me. It makes me happy, because I love her so much. But I'm also kinda sad there will be no Brittana. What a shame, but a sacrifice had to be made.

If you feel like you're missing some information about the Andersons' family life, don't worry, you'll probably get it later on. And a huge thank you to the lovely miss jayne76 for basically knowing Richard Anderson a little better than me.

Oh, I also changed the summary for _Puzzle Pieces_. I suck at those, so it's probably still not perfect, but I wanted a change.

Thanks for sticking by this story and for all the feedback!


	21. Chapter 21: Scars

**Trigger warning:** talk of self-harm.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Scars**

On Tuesday afternoon, Kurt was just about to switch his computer off and leave the office when his phone rang suddenly. Having spoken to both Rachel and Blaine a while earlier, he frowned and glanced at the screen just to see Santana's name.

'Santana! Hi, what's up?,' he greeted her, still in shock.

'Hey, Porcelain, I just have a question,' she answered cheerily.

'Shoot,' Kurt encouraged her, gathering his things from his desk and getting up to go.

'When's that beau of yours playing next?'

The question was another thing that took him by surprise. Santana did say she enjoyed Blaine's concert, but he wouldn't have expected her to show up to another.

'What brought this on? It's not like female groupies are his thing, or guys yours,' he teased as he walked out to get on the elevator.

'There might be someone who would be interested in producing his stuff and getting him a record deal,' Santana replied. 'And you're absolutely right, guys aren't my thing, especially ones whose supply of hair gel equals the amount of product in use annually in a small European country.'

'A record deal? Are you serious?,' he asked loud enough to attract the attention of everybody else waiting for the elevator.

Santana sighed with annoyance on the other end of the line.

'Of course I'm serious, Kurt. Record deals aren't something I take lightly. So when's his next gig?'

'This Saturday,' he told her, barely holding back his excitement, and gave her all the details on the place and time.

'Oh, one more thing,' Santana said. 'Convince him to play his own stuff. Even if it's a song or two.'

'I'll do my best,' he assured her. 'And thank you, Santana. You're a great friend.'

He could hear her chuckle at that.

'People say I'm a bitch, actually. And you're welcome.'

* * *

As soon as he ended the call, Kurt began to wonder if it was a good idea to tell Blaine the news. Yes, he wanted to be successful. Yes, he probably would be excited there was someone coming to listen to him. But then again, excitement wasn't always a positive thing with Blaine. Making him nervous before the gig was likely the worst thing Kurt could do.

His journey on the subway to Blaine's passed mostly on settling the dilemma, and finally he made up his mind just as he was walking out into the street from DeKalb Avenue Station. He wasn't going to tell Blaine about Santana's friend coming to see him play. All he was going to do was try to convince Blaine to prepare some of his original songs for Saturday.

Blaine opened the door before him with a wide smile and greeted him with a kiss.

'Hi,' Kurt said as his boyfriend let him through the doorstep. 'You're in a good mood.'

'I am,' Blaine replied briskly. 'But so are you.'

Kurt sent him a grin, trying for it not to be too cryptic. He'd hate for Blaine to figure out he was hiding something.

'It was a nice day,' he said with a shrug. 'And yours?'

'Mine was awesome.' Blaine's face lit up. 'I was composing all morning.'

A little smug smile crossed Kurt's mouth, as he settled on the living room couch. Wes and Sebastian were nowhere in sight, and he guessed they were out.

'So how are your songs?,' he asked, keeping in mind his decision and his promise to Santana. 'Will I ever get to hear any of them?'

'You will,' Blaine told him without hesitation. 'Actually I guess I might have one ready to perform on Saturday.'

Kurt's eyebrows flew up in astonishment. He hadn't expected not having to work hard on this. He'd already prepared a list of arguments to convince Blaine on his way from the station to his boyfriend's.

'Really?'

'Yeah. I've been working on it for a month, so I guess it won't get any better anyhow.'

'Can I get a first listen?,' Kurt asked, making his best pleading expression.

Blaine smirked at him, coming up to the place where he was sitting.

'Maybe. I could use some convincing, though.'

Kurt wasn't sure if his boyfriend knew just how seductive he sounded. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled Blaine down to the couch. It didn't take a lot of time for them to end up horizontally, either. Kurt's lips pressed tiny kisses along Blaine's jaw line, and went back to his mouth, making him moan with each touch of the skin.

They weren't thinking, completely consumed by the passion. Their hands wandered further and further down, grabbing at clothes and almost tearing them off. Blaine eventually succeeded in taking off Kurt's shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingertips. That skin that was so soft, so pale as to being almost translucent.

This was the furthest they'd come in the physical aspect of their relationship. And even though a tiny voice in Kurt's head told him not to, that it was too early, the heat of making out rendered him deaf to reason. So his hands slipped down Blaine's half-removed shirt to the waist of his pants and, with surprising ease, he yanked the piece of clothing down Blaine's thighs.

'God, Kurt, no!,' Blaine gasped, but Kurt already knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

The skin of Blaine's thighs was covered in hundreds of thin white lines. There was not a centimetre that wouldn't be marked with a scar. The wounds had been long healed, but they were etched so deeply into Blaine's flesh, it seemed they were never to disappear.

Blaine threw his arms up, his hands hiding his face with a mixture of despair, terror and shame. He'd known from the beginning this would happen. They hadn't discussed the issue of sex in detail, so he had pushed it as far away from himself as he could, convinced he had nothing to worry about for the time being. It wasn't sex as such that terrified him; a part of him couldn't wait for the moment he and Kurt would take that last step to complete intimacy.

But sex meant nakedness, and he'd rather keep the scars hidden from the world.

'Blaine-,' Kurt breathed in horror, forgetting entirely how turned on he'd been just a second ago. 'Did you- Did you do this to yourself?'

'What do you think?,' Blaine spat out angrily, making his boyfriend flinch.

For a moment Kurt couldn't find a way to react. The situation was something he'd never considered, and he berated himself internally for that. He knew of Blaine's issues, of his depression, how could he have not thought self-harm might have been a problem as well?

'Sweetie, look at me,' he said softly. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.'

Blaine still refused to look up, digging his hands into his face.

'This wasn't supposed to go that way,' he said.

'I know, I'm sorry,' Kurt repeated more desperately.

'It's my fault, Kurt, nobody else's. I did all that, I didn't tell you-'

Kurt put his hands on Blaine's forearms, pulling them away to uncover his face. Blaine tried averting his gaze, but his boyfriend wouldn't let him.

'It's fine, Blaine, okay? I'm not going to pressure you to anything. Or to telling me stuff that's tough.' He paused, sitting back up and cautiously tracing his fingers over Blaine's left thigh. Blaine watched him in alarm. 'You're beautiful. Scars or no scars, I don't care.'

He cast Blaine an uncertain look, before bending down to kiss the scarred skin of his thigh, making him shiver. It wasn't sexual in the slightest; it was the gentlest, sweetest kiss Kurt had ever given him, any part of his body.

'Can I pull up my pants now?,' Blaine asked weakly, a flood of mixed emotions overwhelming him.

'Sure.'

They both got dressed, but Kurt refused to leave the couch. Though lying next to each other was challenging, they squeezed together in silence.

'I used to do that mostly in high school,' Blaine said quietly after a while. No explanations were necessary, Kurt knew exactly what he meant. 'Being gay, crazy and socially awkward isn't very easy to handle when you're a teenager.'

Kurt didn't interrupt him. The story went on through that one time Blaine got beaten up after a dance – the only one he'd ever been to. He even managed to convince another boy – gay and an outcast like himself – to accompany him. After that his grandmother enrolled him in Dalton. People there were more understanding and things got a little bit better, but the continued lack of an appropriate therapy for any of his issues put a strain on him. He felt ignored, dismissed, and to top it all, his body didn't feel like his own. Getting it hijacked by his alters was the main reason why he'd ever hurt himself.

He knew how lame it sounded when said out loud, but he felt like harming the body would keep the alters away. As if they wouldn't come back to a damaged one. At the same time, feeling the physical pain relieved him from the psychological suffering for just a second. And then it felt like it was worth it. Only Dr. Peterson made him realise it never was.

'I haven't done any of that in years now,' he finished. 'And I don't wanna go back.'

'I'll make sure you never will,' Kurt told him gently, but his gaze was intense, boring into Blaine's hazel eyes.

'How could I ever get by without you?,' Blaine asked rhetorically, Kurt's presence by his side a constant surprise.

'No idea. I guess I'm not irreplaceable.'

Blaine's lips arched slightly upwards.

'You are,' he said. 'I used to think there wasn't a guy in this world that would put up with me and the alters, and all that crap.'

'The alters!,' Kurt interrupted. 'You're still you! We've been talking serious topics all this time and you haven't transitioned. You weren't even close to transitioning!'

Blaine took a moment to look back at all their earlier conversations that concerned his past. He soon realised that they all had a common denominator – his alters fighting to take control. And now, he was himself, still tortured over the scars and the way Kurt found out about them, but himself, completely in control.

'You're right,' he said finally, unable to stop a tiny uncertain smile.

'Do you think it's gonna last?,' Kurt asked, his enthusiasm dying almost as soon as it appeared.

'Probably not,' Blaine sighed. 'But that's a start.'

* * *

Later that night Blaine dozed off on his bed and Kurt decided to let him sleep, so he snuck out to the kitchen. Seb had just come home, and was fixing himself some supper from a collection of leftovers from the fridge.

'Oh, I always knew you liked me better after all,' he crooned mockingly, earning a doubtful look from Kurt. 'Okay, fine. Let me guess, he fell asleep. I hope you weren't making out?'

'Yes, he fell asleep. No, we weren't making out. Not now anyway.'

Kurt dropped heavily on one of the stools at the counter. For the last few hours he'd been trying not to let Blaine see how disturbing his discovery was to him. It didn't change his feelings – nothing could do that anymore – but it made him wonder if he hadn't taken the misery in Blaine's life too lightly.

'Something happened?,' Sebastian asked. 'While you were making out?'

Kurt rolled his eyes, not sure if he wanted to talk to Seb of all people about it.

'Yeah,' he answered eventually. 'I just found out about something he hadn't told me about, and it's kinda my fault, and I guess I'm still processing.'

Sebastian leant on the counter opposite him, his face more serious than Kurt remembered ever seeing.

'You saw his scars,' he stated plainly.

'Yes,' Kurt nodded, but then he remembered something Blaine had mentioned and he frowned. 'How do you know? He told me nobody ever knew except for his therapists and his grandma.'

A sad smile crossed Seb's face.

'He never told me about it,' he admitted. 'But I've seen them.'

'How? The alters?'

Sebastian nodded his head with a bitter chuckle.

'Did he tell you how he and I became friends?'

'Yeah, he said you were the first person to ever meet Liam,' Kurt replied without hesitation, and then it hit him. 'Liam. Wait a second. You slept with him?!'

His voice sounded louder than he'd intended it to, and he clasped his hand over his mouth, partly to silence himself, partly in shock.

'God, don't be a drama queen,' Seb said. 'No, I didn't. Kinda wish I had, but that would probably be weird.'

'Tell me about it,' Kurt muttered. 'He almost gave me a blowjob.'

'Almost?'

Kurt shot him an indignant look.

'Unlike _some people_, I don't throw myself around.'

'Are you calling me a slut?,' Sebastian asked with a crooked smile.

'Well, you kinda smell like Craigslist.'

'Ouch.'

Kurt punched him playfully on the forearm over the counter.

'We were talking about Liam, remember?,' he said. 'What happened with him?'

'He came to my dorm room one night,' Sebastian began. 'He was acting a little strange, 'cause I knew Blaine as this quiet, ridiculously shy weirdo, and then out of nowhere, he was coming onto me. But – as you said – I'm not exactly a prude, so I went along with it. It was weird he kept on saying his name wasn't Blaine, that it was Liam, but I just assumed he was into role playing or some other shit.'

'And?,' Kurt pressed him on.

'Just don't get jealous,' Seb warned him a little too happily for Kurt's liking.

'I won't,' he said in a sugar-coated voice.

'We were making out, and clothes were coming off, you know, nothing out of the ordinary.' Kurt raised his eyebrows dubiously, but let Seb continue. 'Until I got to taking his pants off and I saw the scars. Or wounds, I should say. Some were healed, some were in the process of healing, others had barely stopped bleeding. That's when I stopped. I told him to get dressed and that whatever was going on, I wanted to talk to Blaine.'

'And he came back?'

'Not at first. Not for the next hour and a half, but eventually he did.' Sebastian shrugged. 'Maybe Liam realised he wasn't going to get any, so he left. I have no idea what worked. Wish I did, it would make our life easier.'

Kurt stayed silent for a while, the information swirling in his head without any order.

'So you knew and you didn't do anything about it?,' he asked accusatorily in the end.

'Hey, ease up. I never told him I knew about the scars, but it's not like I just sat around and watched him spiral down, okay?'

'So what _did_ you do?'

'I got the best psychiatrist in Ohio to diagnose him,' Seb said firmly.

'The best psychiatrist in Ohio, huh? How did you even do that? Wait, no, I don't wanna know.'

Kurt began to get up to go back to Blaine, hoping his boyfriend would wake up soon.

'That psychiatrist is my mother,' Sebastian said.

'Oh. Sorry I assumed things,' Kurt mumbled. 'I suppose that's because you're an ass and a floozy most of the time.'

'That's just a part of my charm.'

* * *

**A/N:** I'm sorry if the topic is a tough one for people. I felt it needed to be done.

Just so you know, Sebastian is not a threat to Klaine here. Him and Kurt are just being friends here.

Any references to canon are not my property. The credit for those always go to the _Glee_ writers.

And just a little reminder: if there's no new chapter next Thursday, it's because I have a thesis looming and a job (sort of), so fanfic can't be my priority at the moment.

But it doesn't mean I don't love every single person that spends their time reading my stuff.


	22. Chapter 22: What's Good For Blaine

**Chapter 22: What's Good for Blaine**

They planned to spend the whole of Saturday together. The weather was particularly pleasant for November, so they went out for brunch and a walk in Central Park before going back to Blaine's in the afternoon, so he could get ready for his gig in the evening.

As Blaine was busy assembling his outfit – with Kurt throwing in a comment or a piece of advice from time to time – his boyfriend sprawled over his bed, watching him.

'Hey, you promised me a first listen of that song you wrote,' Kurt said at some point.

'Did I?,' Blaine asked playfully, glancing over his shoulder.

'Not really, but I hoped I'd get it anyway.'

Kurt made puppy dog eyes at Blaine, forcing him to laugh. At the same time the thought of singing that song was nerve-wrecking. Even more so when it was just the two of them; a room full of people seemed much easier to please.

'Just don't be too critical, okay?'

'I swear I won't,' Kurt told him, smiling encouragingly.

With the tiniest nod, Blaine started for the piano. Kurt sat up on the bed, his heart pounding excitedly. The first couple of soft chords filled the room, making his insides melt.

_I have been waiting all my life  
For this moment when you said  
That you were staying here with me  
I have been waiting all this time  
For someone to never want to let me go  
And here you are_

_Whenever you're by my side  
Whenever you hold my hand  
It's like the world could never be  
A better place  
It's like I never want to leave  
And not be myself again_

_I have been waiting all my life  
For someone to take me as I am  
I have been waiting all this time  
For the moment when I finally see your face_

_If this is a dream, I never want to wake  
If this is true, I never want to leave  
And not be myself again_

Reluctantly, Blaine took his fingers off the keys, and turned sheepishly to his boyfriend. Two shining tracks went down Kurt's cheeks, but his face was beaming.

'That was- beautiful,' he choked out, completely blown away by having a song written for him.

'Really?'

'Really. No one has ever written a song for me,' Kurt said. 'It was for me, right? I'm not being too complacent, am I?'

Blaine cupped Kurt's face gently in his hand.

'Of course it was for you.'

'Thank you, then. It's an honour.' Kurt tugged his boyfriend closer to kiss him lightly on the lips.

'You're welcome.'

* * *

Kurt had paid a short visit to the bar Blaine was playing at on Saturday earlier in the week to tell them there was a producer coming to see him. The staff was ordered not to mention it to Blaine under any circumstances and keep everything in order, so that some glitch wouldn't mess things up for Blaine. They agreed to keeping the matter a secret, and seemed genuinely happy for the guy who'd been entertaining their guests on and off for years.

It appeared that everything was going to be fine. Santana and her friend weren't supposed to arrive early enough for Blaine to see them before going on stage and so he could stay perfectly clueless, and thus – perfectly calm.

What Kurt could not anticipate, though, was a newbie bartender, who – apart from being in the dark about Blaine's disorder – was a terrible blabbermouth.

'Oh, hey, Blaine, good luck tonight,' Jenny greeted him as they entered the bar an hour before the scheduled start of the gig. 'That producer's gonna love you.'

Kurt gasped in horror, his eyes darting to Blaine and the shock on his face.

'What producer?,' he asked, his heart rate skyrocketing.

'Oh, nothing, never mind.' She smiled all too brightly.

Taking advantage of the fact that Blaine couldn't do much in the astonishment and sudden terror that hit him, Kurt tugged him to the tiny backstage area. There was still a chance Blaine wouldn't be bothered by it, even though the odds weren't in their favour.

'Kurt, what producer?,' Blaine demanded as soon as they were alone.

'Santana got a friend of hers to come to listen to you. Apparently, they could be interested in getting you signed or something,' Kurt explained as calmly as he could.

'Why didn't you tell me?'

Blaine's voice was panicky, his hands were beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

'This is why, I didn't want you to get nervous, I didn't want you to-,' Kurt mumbled, terrified that his attempts could have had an end result entirely opposite to what he'd intended. 'Please, Blaine, just breathe, you're going to be great, there's nothing to worry about, please-'

Blaine pressed his hands to his temples. The situation was all he ever wanted professionally, all he ever wished for, but now all he could think of was how unprepared he felt, how completely inadequate. He kept on breathing deeply, trying desperately to relax and knowing it was all no good.

And the next second Liam was letting go of his head, stretching his muscles as Kurt watched him in horror.

'Oh my god, Liam, this is not a good moment,' he groaned frustrated.

'Ugh, all of you, you can only whine,' Liam said sarcastically. 'I have no idea how Blaine puts up with all of you.'

'He's doing just fine, thank you, and now, if you could let Blaine back-'

Liam chuckled, taking a couple of languid steps towards an exasperated Kurt.

'You sure you want him back?,' he asked in a seductive murmur.

Not reacting to the sound was impossible, and a shiver ran down Kurt's spine.

'Yes, I'm quite sure,' he choked out. 'He can deal with this on his own- I mean, not on his own, he's got me-'

Another bark of laughter very unlike Blaine's escaped Liam's lips. He ran his fingers playfully through Kurt's painstakingly coiffed hair. Kurt could barely stop himself from slapping the hand away. He was too accustomed to holding that hand to do that, though.

'You, huh? Kurt the liar. Uh-huh, somebody's been a naughty boy,' Liam said with a sneer. 'Too bad it's not the kind of naughty I like.'

This time Liam's hand slid down, tugging at the belt of Kurt's pants and making him gasp.

'I didn't lie, I kept it from him for his own good,' Kurt defended himself, slipping out of Liam's grasp.

'How do you know what's good for him?'

Suddenly both of them were seething. Kurt's frustration with Liam, anger at the stupid bartender and his apparent complete helplessness and inability to get Blaine back melted together into rage. Liam simply seemed offended that Kurt believed he knew Blaine's needs best.

'I know him, I'm his boyfriend, I _love_ him,' Kurt said through his teeth. 'I _know_ what's good for him.'

'I thought I did, too, but apparently I was wrong about you,' Liam spat out in response.

Kurt was ready to counterattack and was just beginning to shout back at the alter, when the implication in Liam's words caught his attention.

'You were- What?'

Liam snickered, casting him a look that most definitely said "you're seriously this dumb?"

'I wasn't really into you, I gave you Blaine's number for him, not for me.'

'Why?,' Kurt asked, frown lines on his forehead deepening.

'Because you seemed like the type of guy he'd like. Boring,' Liam added as Kurt raised his eyebrows questioningly.

'And the bl- the almost blowjob?'

Liam shrugged.

'I guess I just like sucking dicks, even if they belong to such boring boys like you.'

With just a couple of steps, Liam was back next to Kurt with a mischievous little smile, his hands dangerously close. It felt awfully familiar and terrifyingly strange at the same time.

'Liam, could you please step back?,' Kurt whispered, his feet fixed on the spot.

'Don't you wanna get a little dirty?'

'No, Liam, not with you. You're not Blaine, so no.'

Kurt's voice began to tremble and that was something Liam could recognise, so he retreated with a sigh.

'Thank you,' Kurt breathed, trying to focus on his boyfriend again. 'If you claim you know what is best for Blaine, why did you show up now? He didn't need you.'

Liam rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically.

'Blaine this, Blaine that. Like I said, you're fucking boring.'

'Can you stop being an ass for a minute?,' Kurt demanded.

'Alright, alright. Because I'm not sure he can handle being a "star".' He put his fingers up in air quotes.

'But this is what he wants. Let him have it and leave, please. Because unless you're his uber-talented secret weapon, he's gonna be screwed because of you!'

'That's quite a strong accusation, don't you think?,' Liam countered.

'It's still true,' Kurt said. 'He has a set to play, probably the most important one in his life, and maybe I did fuck up, but right now, if he doesn't come out on that stage in,' he glanced at the wall clock, 'twenty seven minutes, it's going to be your fault, not mine.'

They stood motionlessly opposite each other, both breathing and their eyes boring into the other's. Seconds ticked by, and Kurt's hands began to shake in frustration. He had to get through to Blaine, he had to make Liam leave, but pleading for him to go was the only thing he could come up with. The time was slipping away too fast, and Liam was still there.

'He's going to be fine, I promise you,' Kurt pleaded one last time. 'Just let him come back.'

Liam shrugged in response and it seemed like he disregarded the pleas. But when he blinked several times, just to finally open his eyes widely half a minute later, he was Blaine again.

'Kurt?,' he asked weakly. 'Did something happen?'

Without answering, Kurt pulled his boyfriend into a tight embrace, sighing in relief.

'Liam showed up,' he said eventually, still not letting go of Blaine. 'But you're here now, that's all that matters.'

Blaine untangled himself from Kurt to look into his face.

'Wait, what was it about a producer?,' he asked, bits and pieces from before the transition coming back to him.

'There will be one in the audience tonight,' Kurt said. 'Just be your usual self and it's going to be fine.'

Blaine breathed deeply and nodded. One transition per day as absolutely enough for him, and he'd be unable to go out on stage at all if Liam came back.

'I'll do my best.' He smiled weakly as Kurt pulled him back into a hug.

'I'm so happy you're back.'

* * *

**A/N:** First off: I'm no songwriter, so forgive me if Blaine's song's cheesy.

Secondly, I have no idea how the music industry works, so forgive me if there are things that don't match reality.

Finally, I'm not satisfied with this chapter. I wanted it to be much better, but right not I barely have time to sleep, often don't have time to eat, and my nerves are close to wrecked. Let me tell you one thing: being an adult with a job sucks, big time.

I've also been working on a new story (mostly on my way to work), with the lovely Calmzone1 as my first reader and advisor. Hopefully, I'll start posting it soon.


	23. Chapter 23: Chance

**Chapter 23: Chance**

A couple of minutes before Blaine was scheduled do come out onto the small stage, Kurt snuck back out into the bar. The place was full, because it was Saturday and people were eager to listen to some live entertainment for a change. The crowd made it tougher for Kurt to find Santana, but eventually he spotted her with another girl several feet from the podium. The stranger was blond and lean, with green eyes sparkling from under a spiky haircut. She smiled brightly at Kurt as soon as Santana noticed him, pointing him out to her friend.

'Hello, ladies,' he greeted them and held his hand out to the girl. 'I'm Kurt, Santana might have mentioned me.'

She eagerly shook his hand.

'She did, I'm Lindsey.' The smile on her face seemed to be unceasing. 'You may not know it, but Santana talks about you and your other friends from high school a lot.'

'Oh, really?' Kurt raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Then I bet it's nothing pleasant.'

Lindsey laughed.

'On the contrary. I mean, she says some nasty stuff and all, but you know Santana.' Her hand grabbed the other girl's over the drink Santana was holding. It crossed Kurt's mind he should have known she'd be this kind of friend. 'She'd rather seem tough.'

'Hello, I'm still here,' Santana cut in with a sugar-coated smile.

'Don't get upset, those were compliments,' Kurt assured her.

'Anyway,' Lindsey said, drawing his attention back to the reason why she was there. 'How's your boyfriend tonight? I hope he's not too nervous about me being here.'

Kurt tried to smile, but the result was unconvincing.

'We had a little bit of a crisis, but I guess it's fine now,' he answered evasively.

'Oh, I didn't mean to be a problem.' Lindsey winced slightly. 'You could've kept it from him, just to not make him flip out.'

A chuckle escaped Kurt's lips.

'Believe me, I tried. But someone spilled the beans and we ended up with- that crisis. He kinda- freaked.' He laughed anxiously in an attempt to cover up his guilt.

Santana eyed him suspiciously, but before she could say anything, Blaine came out onto the stage. He grinned at the audience as he settled on the stool with his guitar, even though there was still an air of restlessness about him. He tried not to think about pleasing anyone, and concentrate on doing his job as well as he could.

He started with a few covers on his guitar between switching to piano for a couple more. Kurt noticed Lindsey was listening closely and it seemed she liked what she was hearing, particularly the songs that Blaine rearranged, making them his own. She whispered something to Santana, who nodded in agreement, her lips twitching up.

'Now I'm going to play something a little bit different,' Blaine said eventually. 'This is something I've been working on for some time, and I'd like to dedicate it to the first person who's heard it. He's the person who inspired me to go back to songwriting and who gives me courage to chase my dreams. So, Kurt, this is for you.'

Kurt beamed up at him as Blaine cast him a glance a second before his fingers struck the keys. Somehow the song seemed to have become even more beautiful than it was before. Unlike most of the time, the audience was almost completely quiet, listening to the music and eventually giving it a generous ovation.

'I guess I could work with that,' Lindsey said when the claps died out.

Seeing Blaine's eyes were on him, Kurt grinned happily at the stage, raising two thumbs up.

* * *

Blaine joined them at the table almost immediately after leaving the stage. The bar was beginning to empty and they could talk freely.

'This is Lindsey,' Kurt introduced her to his boyfriend when he approached them.

'Blaine Anderson,' he said, extending his hand for her to shake.

'Lindsey Boyd. That was a pretty neat set,' she complimented him.

'Thanks.' Blaine sat down in the last empty chair, leaning slightly on the table. 'I'm guessing you wanted me to play something original, am I right?'

Lindsey laughed shortly.

'Yeah, I might've said something about it to Santana.'

'So I hope I didn't disappoint,' Blaine said as nonchalantly as he could.

'Not at all. That was very heart-felt. Very genuine. People like that. Almost as much as they like a cute guy with a guitar.'

Kurt felt like he could explode with pride. He could barely stop himself from bouncing up and down in his chair. Santana was the only one who didn't seem the least excited about the topic of their conversation. Her eyes stayed fixed on Blaine and his hands that he had laced together to stop them from trembling. There wasn't much to stress over anymore, he knew already that Lindsey liked him, so why would he still be so nervous?

'Hey, she said she liked you, chill already!,' she told Blaine. 'You're starting to look like you have early onset Parkinson's.'

Blaine tried to laugh the remark off, but Kurt's expression fell, setting Santana's suspicions sky-rocketing.

'You're not telling us something. Both of you,' she stated, and a look of horror in Kurt's face seemed to prove she was right. 'What is it?'

For one tense moment, Blaine hesitated, pursing his lips. Kurt held his breath, unsure which was the worse alternative: telling Lindsey the whole truth or keeping it secret. Either one could end in a disaster.

'You're right,' Blaine said eventually. 'There is something. First, though, I want to ask you to try not to treat me any different than you would anybody else on the account of what I'm about to say, in any way. But if that makes you change your mind about me or working with me, I won't be offended. You can be open with me about it.'

Kurt put his hand over both of his boyfriend's over the table top in a gesture of reassurance.

'Are you sure about this?,' he asked quietly.

'She should know.'

'What exactly should she know?,' Santana demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

'That I'm sick.'

A tense awkward silence ensued. Not even Santana could get herself to speak for a while. Lindsey's expression showed quite clearly she had not predicted that.

'Is it serious?,' Lindsey asked at last. 'Forgive my bluntness, but is it terminal?'

'Maybe let him tell you what it is first,' Santana cut in, putting a hand on her girlfriend's forearm. 'Sick how?,' she addressed Blaine.

'Not terminally, that's for sure. Seriously, yes,' he said, carefully choosing words.

'But he's getting better,' Kurt told the girls with conviction.

Everyone ignored him, focusing on the fact that no illness had been specified.

'Can we establish what we're dealing with?,' Lindsey asked impatiently.

Blaine nodded slowly, dropping his eyes to the table.

'I suffer from DID, which stands for dissociative identity disorder.'

'Meaning?,' Santana prompted.

'It's a mental illness, isn't it?' It was more of a statement than a question on Lindsey's part. She was perfectly serious, not a shade of mockery sounded in her voice, and Blaine felt relieved; no matter what was coming next, this was a good first step and it was more than he could usually count on.

'Yes, it is,' he answered. 'Do you want to know what it causes?'

Lindsey did, so he summarised the most important information about his disorder, mentioning only that he had a few alters, below the average amount, and that he was in therapy. She listened until he finished without interrupting him.

'So you're saying it's being managed?,' she said cautiously.

'I'm in therapy, yes.'

'No, what I mean, there have to be _some_ drugs you could be taking.'

'There are,' Blaine confirmed. 'But currently I'm- off medication.

'Why?'

Blaine sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. Something always had to be wrong.

'Because I'm sick of drugs. I didn't feel like myself when I was on them. I probably wouldn't have composed anything on drugs.'

'He's getting better now,' Kurt repeated. 'He's been great lately.'

'Kurt,' his boyfriend pleaded.

'But you have!,' he insisted. 'When was the last time you transitioned?'

'Today, Kurt!,' Blaine countered.

'And before the one time I fucked up?'

They almost forgot they weren't alone. Fighting wasn't something they had much experience in; apart from Blaine's attempt at breaking up, they had only squabbled over trifles.

'First of all, you didn't fuck up, Jenny did,' Blaine reasoned. 'Second of all, there's no guarantee my symptoms won't go back to what they used to be.'

'They won't,' Kurt said, trying to convince himself almost as much as his boyfriend.

'You can't know that.'

'Um, hey, guys,' Lindsey interrupted them uneasily. 'Can I ask you one more question, Blaine?'

'Shoot,' he sighed, leaning back in his chair.

'Can it be cured?'

'Undetermined. But I've had it for nineteen years and not much has changed, so- I wouldn't count on that,' he said, wincing.

Lindsey considered it for a moment, nodding gently to herself. Santana tried to whisper something in her ear, but she waved her away impatiently. Then she folded her hands on top of the table and fixed her eyes on Blaine one more time.

'You wanted me to be straight with you- honest with you,' she corrected herself as her girlfriend barked out a laugh. 'So I'll tell you exactly what I think. I think you have great potential. I think there would be plenty of labels fighting for your talent, if they only knew you existed. So before anyone else does, I'm going to fight for you. I'll get you into a label, I'll help you put out a record. All you have to do is say yes.'

Blaine swallowed, his eyes bulging in disbelief. He expected her to regret coming at all and wasting her time for a crazy guy. Still she was willing not only to take her chance with him, but _fight_ for him.

'So? What's it going to be?,' Lindsey urged him.

'Why?,' he choked out at last. 'This isn't going to be easy, you have to realise that.'

'I do. But I believe everyone deserves a chance, especially when they are as talented as one fourth of the current market put together.'

The shock Blaine was in kept growing stronger when he thought it already impossible. He felt like he was going to implode with this amount of emotions, but nothing happened. Suddenly, he realised he still hadn't answered Lindsey.

'Yes. I mean, if this is what you think, I'm saying yes.'

* * *

It was past midnight, and the bar was almost completely empty, as people had left to party elsewhere. Kurt left the table to get them some more drinks, humming under his breath. He was quite pleased with the outcome of the evening, despite the hurdles and the fight he had with Blaine that he'd rather forget about. Blaine got Lindsey's support and that was what counted.

'Need a hand?,' Santana asked from behind Kurt, startling him.

'Yeah, sure,' he said, smiling at her s she joined him at the bar.

A moment slipped by in silence as they waited for their drinks.

'It's really brave what you're doing,' Santana said unexpectedly.

'What?' Hearing anything of the sort from her was a first, no matter what she was referring to.

'The whole I'm-dating-a-mental-guy thing.' Kurt lifted a finger to protest, but she went on. 'God, you know what I mean. He's cool. And as much as I hate saying this, you really do look cute together.'

'Thanks, I guess,' he muttered with a frown. 'You and Lindsey make a cute couple, too. Why didn't you tell me she was your girlfriend?'

Santana bit her lip. The bartender just put their drinks on the counter, so she busied herself with picking hers and Lindsey's to take them to their table.

'I didn't want it to seem like I slept my way up the business pecking order.' She shrugged, but Kurt could tell the confession made her uneasy, if not vulnerable.

'I thought you didn't care about other people's opinions,' he said, eyeing her as they started heading back to the table.

His friend turned to him with her number five smile.

'That's 'cause I don't.' Her expression turned serious. 'Not about most people's. But you're like- you're like my family, Kurt. You and all those other idiots from glee. I'd probably be like dealing drugs or sucking off truckers in Lima Heights if not for that club.'

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head.

'Oh no, I bet nothing like that would have happened to you,' he disagreed. 'It's nice that you think so, though. Just promise me one thing.'

'Depends what it is, but I'm guessing it's not a foursome.'

He rolled his eyes at her.

'Promise me we won't lose touch again.'

'Deal,' she said without hesitation.

'And I guess a couple of VIP tickets to a show of yours wouldn't hurt either,' Kurt added with a smug grin.

'We'll see about that.'

* * *

**A/N:** I'm so sorry I'm late with the chapter, but I've been crazy busy lately.

But obviously, it didn't stop me from writing my new fic that I'll probably be uploading the first chapter of within the next couple of days. It's called _Where We Belong_, if you're interested.


	24. Chapter 24: Lima

**Chapter 24: Lima**

Lindsey had warned Blaine not to expect anything huge in at least a couple of weeks. Talks with labels and recording studios were tough and boring. In the meantime, Blaine's task was to focus on composing and finding a manager. Out of the two, he found the latter terrifying, so he put it off, promising himself to take care of it once they come back from Thanksgiving in Ohio. Songwriting was much easier to turn to, especially now, when he had proof he could actually be successful in it.

Until now, he hadn't even realised how much he wanted to say and how cathartic it was to put some things in words and melodies. He couldn't feel better getting all of his dark thoughts out of his head, even though sometimes he pushed himself to his limits. The results were still purifying and they made Blaine proud of himself. Dr. Peterson, despite being slightly doubtful about it at first, was forced to admit that, indeed, he appeared to be getting better. She refused to say that he really _was _getting better, but at the same time, Blaine wasn't getting his hopes too high up, and the little improvement was still a step forward, a bigger one than he had ever made in the course of his treatment.

A couple of weeks passed without much news from Lindsey, as Blaine tried not to work himself up about it and simply keep composing. Kurt was around Wes, Seb and Blaine's apartment most of his free time, and finally convinced his boyfriend to play him the pieces he was working on more often. With each of the songs, Kurt couldn't help but be amazed by Blaine's talent. It crossed his mind that maybe his feelings made him biased, but he didn't really care. To him, Blaine would always be a genius, even if he didn't get a record deal.

Finally, on the Saturday before Thanksgiving, the two of them got on a plane to Columbus, where Burt was supposed to pick them up and drive them to Lima. That was something that almost made Blaine sick whenever he thought of it, but there were no flights directly to Lima. He tried to convince himself he was being ridiculous and the week they were going to spend with Kurt's family was going to be worth all that anxiety.

Burt welcomed them with hugs by the baggage claim. There was something in his eyes that seemed different to Blaine, and he guessed it had something to do with Kurt's revelation about the car crash, so he didn't say anything. It probably wouldn't be wise to get into the details now, when he was already consumed with worry about driving to Lima.

'How was your flight?,' Burt asked them as they made their way through the crowded airport parking lot.

'Fine,' Kurt responded, eyeing his boyfriend who seemed to be growing nervous since getting off the plane. 'Blaine, you alright?'

Blaine nodded rapidly, but his ragged breath said something else.

'Do you need something, kid?,' Burt asked softly.

'No, I'm okay.' They had just arrived at the car and Burt was about to put their suitcases in the trunk, when a thought crossed Blaine's mind. 'Wait a second.'

He put his suitcase down on the ground in a swift movement and began digging through the neatly stacked clothes until he found the small yellow stuffed bear. Burt watched him with a frown, not getting why his son's boyfriend would exactly need that toy.

'Do you think he's gonna help?,' Kurt asked quietly.

Blaine shrugged.

'I don't know. But in case Boo comes out or something-'

'Sure.'

Nobody said anything more until they were tucked into the SUV, Kurt joining his boyfriend in the backseat to hold his hand. Blaine was still afraid something bad would happen, like he did every year at the end of November, as if that time was cursed, destined to ruin his life. He was perfectly aware that it was absurd to think that, so he had told Kurt it was stressful for him because he was worried something would trigger him. And he had to admit rationally that in the last eighteen years, none of his Thanksgivings ended in a disaster.

He was just paranoid. He almost snorted at the thought that the addition of paranoia wouldn't probably make much of a difference with his count of mental problems.

At first, Blaine wouldn't dare look out the window, keeping his eyes fixed stubbornly on his hand, gripped securely between both of his boyfriend's. What if they went the same way? What if he recognised the place?

'We're going through the north-western part of the city,' Burt told them, eyeing Blaine in the rear view mirror. He couldn't be sure his guess about the boy's tenseness was right, but he was quite sure Blaine did relax a little as he nodded infinitesimally.

Unlike Blaine, after all, Burt remembered every single detail of that day. He could point out the tree the Andersons' car hit if someone asked him. He remembered the little boy was wearing a tiny red bowtie with cars on it. And the way he trembled in his arms. The bent and tangled metal. The blood. The black body bags. He didn't even know these people, but it seemed their deaths and their tragedy could never stop haunting him.

And now some twisted form of higher power – God, fate, whatever it was – brought that little boy back into his life, only his time, it was Kurt's turn to be saving him.

Burt couldn't honestly say he'd stopped worrying. If anything, his concern only grew with this strange connection that Kurt had discovered. He wasn't worried just for his son anymore, but also for the man Kurt had chosen to be with. So he glanced every other moment into the mirror to check up on Blaine, watching as the anxiety seeped away little by little.

The first half hour of the drive was quiet. Blaine focused on the warmth of his boyfriend's body next to him that enveloped him in a little bubble of safety. The car sped smoothly through the highway, with no sudden stops or bumps in the road, which was reassuring. Kurt kept on watching Blaine closely, his relief growing with each moment.

'I haven't thanked you for inviting me yet,' Blaine finally broke the silence, startling both of the Hummels.

'Don't even mention it,' Burt said, taking a hand off the wheel to wave dismissively. For a second Blaine thought the car would swerve and his breath hitched, but nothing happened. 'You're family now, right, Kurt?'

'Absolutely,' Kurt agreed, a wide smile breaking out on his face.

* * *

From the first moment he saw her in the open front door, Blaine knew he'd like Carole. Warmth radiated from her, and her smile was one of the kindest he'd ever seen.

'Blaine, I'm so happy to finally meet you,' she greeted him, before pulling him in for a short hug.

'Likewise, Mrs Hummel,' he replied, relieved beyond words that he met with such a pleasant welcome.

Further in the hall, a tall gangly young man was standing by the staircase, clearly unsure what to do. Carole gave him a scorn and tugged Blaine forwards.

'That's my son, Finn,' she introduced him.

'Kurt's told me a lot about you.' Blaine said, extending his hand for the other man to shake.

'Yeah- Yeah, and about you too,' Finn stammered, his eyes darting around as if he didn't know where to place them.

Burt cleared his throat loudly, trying to dissolve the heavy awkward atmosphere.

'Carole, why don't you show Blaine around the house, so he knows where he's gonna sleep?'

Leaving Burt in charge of their suitcases, the two boys followed Carole upstairs. To Kurt, it felt wonderful to be back home, see the familiar hallway, the pictures on the walls, his room...

'Wait, weren't you supposed to show Blaine where he's sleeping? I still remember where my room is, Carole.'

His step-mother sent him a look that said _don't-be-silly_.

'We thought your bed's wide enough for the two of you,' she told him casually.

'So you're letting us sleep together?,' Kurt asked, slightly shocked.

'Just as long as you two _sleep_,' Burt cut in, joining them. 'But you're both adults, I'm not gonna treat you like kids, even if it could make me a little uncomfortable.'

Blaine cast a furtive glance at his boyfriend, whose cheeks suddenly turned brightly pink. It seemed that it was the two of them and not Burt who felt the most uncomfortable in this situation.

'Okay, I am not having this conversation anymore,' Kurt blurted out, turning on his heel and pushing the door to his room – to their room – open.

It looked just as it always had – decorated in subtle tones of cream, elegant and subdued. It felt simultaneously like coming home and arriving in a foreign land. He knew every nook and cranny, every scratch on the floorboards. But now his muscles were tense, as he grew to realise he didn't know how to act there anymore.

Snuggling into the wee hours of the night and staying over each other's places a few times hadn't taught them to actually live together, not even short-term. They were only beginning to learn how the other liked his coffee, for heaven's sake.

Burt dragged their luggage in, and left them to unpack, hurrying his wife to follow in his track. The room fell silent, as neither knew what to say. Blaine began examining the shelves that held pictures, diplomas and books. The Kurt in the photographs was clearly younger, remnants of baby fat making his face rounder.

'That's cute,' Blaine said, pointing to a photo of Kurt in a leotard, with a girl on each side.

'Thanks, but I kinda look like a kindergartener,' Kurt responded with a nervous giggle.

'No, you don't,' his boyfriend insisted, turning back to him. 'I love your room.'

Kurt smiled broadly at him, but his expression soon fell.

'Good, 'cause now it's pretty much our room.'

He bit his lip uneasily. This felt strange; it was the first time they had something together, something material and something they could call theirs. As if that somehow took their relationship to a new level, even though it was going to be just nine short days.

'Then I love _our_ room,' Blaine corrected himself, taking a step towards Kurt. 'Are you alright? Do you wanna talk about it?'

Without speaking, Kurt laced his fingers with Blaine's and led him to the bed they were going to share for the coming week. Their hearts pounded in sync as the realisation of that hit them, but neither backed out.

'I just- This is a little fast, you know? It feels like we're shacking up and it scares me,' Kurt spat out on one exhale of breath.

'It scares you to be living with me?,' Blaine asked quietly, after another second of silence. 'Like- Are you scared of _me_?'

Kurt's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

'What? No! Of course not.' He dropped his eyes to their still linked hands. 'I'm scared it's gonna show you I'm not good enough for you.'

'How could you not be enough for me?,' Blaine asked, barely finding words in his astonishment. 'You're not enough, you're _everything_ to me.'

A soft smile played at the corners of Kurt's mouth, his heart warming up and his nervousness dwindling by a fraction.

'I'm glad to hear it, even though you're totally exaggerating,' he said. 'But I think we need to clear something up.'

Blaine frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt wouldn't let him.

'This is going to be a big step for us. Being together almost at all times in the next nine days. Sleeping in one bed each night in between. Spending time with family. It might be weird at first, and awkward, and discouraging- But I'm really hoping it's gonna be fine.'

'Me too,' Blaine said, smiling back at him.

'One more thing,' Kurt added. 'I want you to know that just because we sort of have my Dad's blessing, it doesn't mean I'm gonna use the situation and force you into something you're not ready for. I've made that mistake once before, and I promise not to repeat it.'

Blaine hesitated a moment before answering.

'What if I was ready?,' he asked, glancing at his boyfriend with unease.

'Oh.' Kurt tried not to show his surprise, but failed miserably. 'Well, we're still under my parents' roof, so that would be really awkward. Let's wait with that step until we're back in New York, okay?'

'Okay.' Blaine pouted. 'Can I at least count on some heated make-out sessions?'

Kurt let out a peel of laughter.

'Absolutely.'

Blaine didn't need any more encouragement. Within seconds, his lips found Kurt's and his hands grabbed his boyfriend's face. From there it was close enough to landing horizontally on the bed and forgetting the whole world around them.

Needless to say that when Carole called them to come downstairs for dinner, their lips were swollen and their suitcases unpacked.

* * *

**A/N:** I don't remember if I told you I have no idea how the music industry works. If I didn't, well, I have no idea how it works.

I'm basically falling asleep over my laptop right now, so I might have overlooked something when I was proofreading. I can barely keep my eyes open.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, _Puzzle Pieces_ will most likely be more or less 35 chapters long. Unless something happens to make it another _Unintended_, but I wouldn't expect that.

And, obviously, I uploaded _Where We Belong_ during the weekend, so check it out if you want to!


	25. Chapter 25: Optimistic

**Chapter 25: Optimistic**

'You're a musician, right, Blaine?,' Carole inquired politely at the dinner table.

He nodded in response, swallowing a mouthful of lasagne.

'Yes. Actually, there's a producer that wants to get me signed to a label,' he added proudly.

'Oh, that's wonderful!,' Carole said enthusiastically.

'Kurt mentioned something about that,' Burt cut in. 'Who did you say that producer was?'

Kurt forced himself to stop looking at his boyfriend in adoration to answer his father. He was positively glowing ever since he and Blaine came down for the family meal.

'Santana's girlfriend,' he said finally.

'And how's Santana?,' his step-mother asked, taking a sip of wine. 'The last time I saw her was on TV.'

'She's- you know, Santana,' Kurt told her. 'But I guess she's happy. Lindsey's really sweet and she puts up with her, so that's good, too. Even though I used to think Santana and Brittany would end up getting hitched.'

His dad and step-mother nodded in agreement. Even Finn, who'd been quiet and tense all night, staring intensely into his plate, bobbed his head up and down by a fraction.

'Brittany?,' Blaine asked.

'She went to school with us. Unitard photo, blonde?,' Kurt prompted.

'Let me guess, she was in your glee club,' Blaine said, his lips tugging up at one corner.

'Yup. You have to meet everyone at some point.'

The conversation went on about the New Directions and their triumphs. Kurt kept on hoping that would drag his step-brother into the discussion, but Finn only answered when directly questioned. It was frustrating to watch him so withdrawn, and after a while Kurt was close to the point in which he'd jump up and yell "What the hell is wrong with you?!" at him.

Before that could happen, though, to everybody's surprise, Finn offered to put the dishes in the washer. A minute passed after he had gathered the plates and disappeared in the kitchen, and everyone was casting furtive glances at the others. No one knew what his problem was. No one, except for Blaine.

In a swift movement, Blaine got up from the table and glanced at Kurt.

'It's me,' he said.

His first instinct was to go upstairs, take his suitcase and leave, catch the earliest train for New York City and run away. After all, this wasn't his place, or his family. He was an intruder and a disturber of peace.

But he'd already tried running away from Kurt and that didn't end particularly well. So instead of going back to Kurt's room, he turned to the kitchen.

He was right in thinking this wasn't his family. They weren't. His fear, though, was not good enough reason to give up on them becoming family at some point. If Finn had a problem with him, it was probably best to solve it right away.

He entered the kitchen, digging his fists in the pockets of his tight jeans. Finn didn't hear him come in, too busy placing the dishes in the washer with a series of clinks and clanks. Only when he shut the machine an turned around did he notice him.

'Dude, you scared me!,' he said with annoyance.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to,' Blaine replied softly. 'Can I ask you something?'

Finn folded his arms over his chest.

'You just did. But go ahead, shoot.'

'What is your problem with me?'

This caught Finn off guard. He'd really tried not to act suspicious, but it seemed he could count it as a failure. He slumped hopelessly at the kitchen table and motioned Blaine to sit opposite him.

'I don't have a problem with _you_,' he said, his eyes tracing the edges of the tiles covering the floor, just to keep them off his brother's boyfriend. 'I just have a problem.'

'What with?,' Blaine pressed on.

Finn only rolled his eyes, his irritation reaching a new level, though it was impossible to tell who or what was its object.

'God, dude, I'm really trying here, okay?,' he said eventually, throwing his hands up helplessly.

Unlike Finn, Blaine never stopped looking at the other man. He'd seen this nervousness, this unease many times before. Only never before had a person reacting this way been one of the closest things he had to family.

'It's because I'm sick, isn't it?,' he asked softly. 'You don't know how to act, because I'm crazy.'

No answer came for a moment, embarrassment pouring over Finn, mixed with a strange feeling of relief. Then he glanced at Blaine, his heart pounding; there was no way to tell how Blaine would react. He'd said himself he was crazy.

But all Blaine did was nod sadly. He didn't even seem upset or surprised. He just sat there in quiet, his head going up and down infinitesimally. It wasn't that it didn't make him feel anything; it still depressed him how differently people treated him, constantly walking on eggshells around him. By now, though, he'd grown accustomed to it and the familiarity of the feeling seemed to have numbed it down to a short sharp pang in the heart.

'I know I can't really make you change the way you feel about this,' Blaine started slowly. 'I can only ask you to treat me like I wasn't sick. Please? You should probably be careful what you say around me, but other than that, I really don't need to be treated any differently than a regular person.'

'I can try,' Finn told him. His attempt at an encouraging smile was pitiful.

'Thanks. Just so you know, I'm not dangerous, not to others, anyway. And if any of my alters shows up, remember they're not really me, they're their own people and should be treated as such.'

Finn nodded in acknowledgement.

'Should I know anything more about them?'

Blaine took a moment to consider it.

'Don't be surprised if Liam hits on you, he has no boundaries and hardly understands the word _straight_,' he said. 'If Boo shows up, just make sure he has his Winnie the Pooh. It's in my things somewhere. Also, he may cry a lot, so don't be freaked out if he does. You don't have to worry about Kathryn, she's gonna love you. And I don't think we have to worry about Cooper showing up for now.'

With a deepening frown on his face, Finn noted everything in his mind. Maybe he wasn't going to feel completely at ease around Blaine quite yet, but it seemed there was much less to be concerned about than he'd thought.

'Why don't you think he- Cooper? – will show up?,' he asked.

'He generally does when I'm alone.' Blaine shrugged. 'I don't think I'm gonna be alone any time within the next week.'

He began turning away, back towards the door. He was quite satisfied with the way the conversation went. It was uplifting.

'Wait, Blaine?' Finn stopped him halfway to the door. 'You said you're not dangerous- to others. Does that mean you _can_ be dangerous to- like- yourself?'

Blaine gave him a joyless smile.

'Yeah. Something like that.'

* * *

It was late when Kurt and Blaine returned to their room. The rest of the evening passed with much less awkwardness, even though Burt and Carole kept on eyeing Finn restlessly.

'What did you tell Finn?,' Kurt asked his boyfriend when the door closed behind them. 'It was like you were some kind of step-brother-in-law whisperer or something.'

'I just asked him not to freak out about my DID,' Blaine replied dismissively.

'So it was about that, huh?'

'Yeah, but it's fine, I'm used to this.'

Kurt sighed, grabbing his suitcase and throwing it a little too forcefully on the bed. He hated how normal it was for his boyfriend to be disregarded and treated unjustly because of his disorder.

'It's not fine. I hoped at least my brother wouldn't give you crap about it.'

'He didn't know how to act, it's nothing new,' Blaine said soothingly and put his arms around Kurt's waist. 'We talked, I explained some things to him and now he knows. It'll be fine.'

Circling Blaine's neck with his arms, Kurt inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of his boyfriend comforting and safe as much as being home. The way it felt made it seem like there was no other place where they could ever belong. No other person that could ever be as much that piece of themselves that had gotten torn away and lost in the beginning of time.

'You're being very optimistic today,' Kurt murmured against Blaine's neck.

'Is it bad?'

Blaine took a tiny step back, just enough to see his boyfriend's face without losing the warmth of their bodies almost flush against each other. Kurt was smiling at him widely and sincerely.

'Not at all, it's wonderful. I love seeing you like that.'

'So you don't love seeing me when I'm mopey and depressed?,' Blaine asked warily.

Kurt rolled his eyes, catching Blaine's hands in his own and brushed the knuckles softly with his lips.

'I hate seeing you depressed, because your smile is too beautiful to ever let it fade. I hate seeing you depressed, because there isn't much I can do to help with some stuff. I hate seeing you depressed, because I don't want you to suffer ever again and it reminds me that I can't simply take all of that pain and hurt away.'

With every word Kurt said, Blaine felt like his heart was closer and closer to exploding. He wanted to tell him something meaningful, but nothing he thought of was good enough.

'You gotta want me to cry again,' he tried joking, but Kurt didn't get even a second to laugh as Blaine's lips crushed into his fervently. 'What did I ever do to deserve you?,' Blaine added when they parted, just a breath against Kurt's neck.

'You didn't have to do anything, you deserve all the good in the world.'

'Kurt?'

'Hm?'

Blaine took a deep breath, the thought of what he wanted to ask still scary, even though they'd gone over all that before.

'Could you take me to the cemetery tomorrow?'

'Of course,' Kurt replied, his thumbs caressing Blaine's knuckles gently. 'I told you I would. As long as you're sure.'

'I am.'

* * *

**A/N:** This time it was my Internet connection that almost prevented me from posting the chapter, but I succeeded.

I'm not really sure if I like this chapter... But make sure you don't miss the next one! It's super important!


	26. Chapter 26: Family Stories

**Chapter 26: Family Stories**

The place looked glum, enveloped in the misty freezing drizzle that persistently seeped down from the sky. Neither of them had uttered a word since they entered Columbus. Tension rolled off of Blaine in perceptible waves, but Kurt had decided that ultimately he couldn't do much to help, except focus on the road and get them to their destination safely, without ending up as its newest inhabitants.

'Ready?,' Kurt asked, watching Blaine closely; his eyes were fixed on the gate, his hands balled up into fists, his fingernails digging into the flesh of his palms.

If it took physical pain to keep him grounded, he was willing to scratch holes out in his body.

Finally, turning his head back to Kurt, he nodded. He wasn't ready, he wasn't even remotely close to being ready, but at the same time, he felt like he could never be any better prepared.

In a matching slow pace, they got out of the car into the late November wet chill. At reaching Blaine at the passenger side, Kurt took one of his boyfriend's hands into his own and gently made him release his fist. Four little red arches were etched into the skin of Blaine's palm. The sight made Kurt's heart ache and he immediately locked their fingers, covering the pain with love and care.

They started up towards the gate without speaking. Blaine inhaled deeply one more time; it felt like walking into Mordor, with all sorts of dangers lurking around every bend. Only what was threatening him was irremovably lodged deep inside his own brain.

And as much as the gate seemed a cursed line that would unleash hell on earth the moment he crossed it, nothing really happened when he did.

'Do you know the way?,' Kurt asked softly.

Another nod served for the answer.

They proceeded slowly, as if Blaine wasn't sure of the way after all. He was, though; that little grassy alley in the middle of the graveyard he could find blindly. Almost like they were calling for him to come.

Kurt tried keeping his eyes on the tombstones they were passing, paying close attention to the names. He wasn't convinced Blaine would remember the way. He didn't even remember half the times he'd gone there.

But when Blaine stopped abruptly, Kurt knew it wasn't because they were lost. A short survey of the nearby graves told him they arrived at the right spot. Blaine's hand tightened around Kurt's. And nothing else happened.

The sight of the three tombstones sticking out of the ground one next to another choked Blaine up for a moment. The two older ones were a little mossy and weather-beaten; the names stayed as legible as they used to be, though. Kurt read them silently, his mind involuntarily drifting off to wonder whether Blaine's family would have liked him if they had ever got a chance to meet.

Then he turned to glance at Blaine, prepared to see anything, anyone. At first he thought his boyfriend's face was blank, as if he transitioned into someone who didn't give a damn about this. Only after a second did Kurt notice the silent tears seeping slowly down Blaine's cheeks. He was sure it wasn't Boo, his crying expression was different.

'Blaine?,' he said quietly.

The pair of wet eyes turned to him helplessly.

'Yeah?,' Blaine's voice almost broke.

'Nothing. I was just checking if it's you.'

The corners of Blaine's lips lifted by a fraction.

'It's me.'

His gaze wandered back to the tombstones. For the first time ever he was lucid enough to take satisfaction from the fact that under Caitlin's name there was only a caption calling her a beloved mother and daughter.

'Are you okay?.' Kurt asked after another moment of silence.

'I think so,' Blaine replied with a slow nod.' I guess we can go.'

With one last glance at the three headstones, they turned around, back towards the gate.

'Do you think it was worth coming here?,' Kurt asked as they drew near to the exit.

Blaine shrugged.

'I don't know. I'm not even sure I know why I wanted to come in the first place.' He paused, biting his lip in thought. 'But I guess I can call this progress. I didn't transition, I didn't freak out and I'm not even on meds. So thank you.'

'What for?,' Kurt said with a frown.

'For driving me out here. For holding my hand. For reminding me I'm not alone.'

'You don't have to thank me for any of that. That's what I'm here for,' he assured Blaine with a small comforting smile.

They slowly unlinked their hands as they approached the car. They'd rather not have to do that.

'Kurt?,' Blaine said uncertainly, stopping at the passenger side door.

'Yeah?'

'Can we go to one more place?'

* * *

The Ross family house was a large mansion right by the banks of the Hoover Reservoir. It was one of the oldest houses in the vicinity, built by Blaine's grandfather, as Kurt was told on their way there in between the directions he was given by his boyfriend. The roads wound picturesquely through Westerville, among richly decorated tall fences of enormous houses and country clubs.

Their destination was three-storey high and surprisingly well-kept. Blaine mumbled something about a gardener and a housekeeper at Kurt's frown.

'So why exactly are we here, if everything is in order, apparently? Not like you have plants to water.' Kurt chuckled nervously.

Blaine shot him a smile before starting to fumble with the key.

'Does there always have to be a reason?,' he said. The lock finally gave in and he pushed the door wide open, gesturing Kurt in. 'For me, this is home. I've seen yours, now I want you to see mine.'

He waited until Kurt was next to him and he led him by the hand inside. The hall was huge and white, with an arched staircase to the right, and a broad doorway opening onto the living room to the left. Each piece of furniture, every painting, lamp or set of curtains was elegant, tasteful and visibly expensive. Kurt's jaw fell slightly open, but he closed it again immediately. What else could he have expected?

It took only a few steps into the living room to see a vast collection of family photos on the mantelpiece and the cupboards. The first photographs were old wedding ones that Blaine promptly pointed out as his grandparents'. Then followed pictures of a baby, than a toddler and another infant.

'That's my Mom.' Blaine indicated the older child, whose sparkling eyes illuminated the whole frame, even though the photo was in greyscale. 'And that's Uncle Jonny. I never met him. He was in the army and he got killed in the first Gulf War.'

They'd reached a photograph portraying a young attractive man in uniform. Next to the frame was the still neatly folded flag.

'I'm sorry,' Kurt said.

'Don't be, not about him. Cooper and him were close though, when Coop was little. Jonny would always throw ball with him or play the guitar for him whenever he came home from the army.'

Kurt expected to see a wedding picture of the Andersons, but none was to be found. There was a multitude of snapshots of Caitlin and her boys, first only Cooper, then both. But soon the pictures of the mother and her older son ended. And the boy that was left in the pictures was a mere shadow of the one he used to be.

The presence of Blaine's grandmother grew more prominent, replacing Caitlin in many of the photographs, gradually rekindling the smile on his face.

And then Kurt stopped short, bewildered. An eight-year-old Blaine holding Winnie tightly to his chest. Not Blaine, _Boo_. A nine-year-old with a familiar smirk on his face. Cooper, the alter. Blaine, still pre-pubescent, maybe twelve, small and awkward, in full drag. Kathryn. There was only a picture of Liam missing.

'Your grandma took photos of your alters?,' Kurt asked.

Blaine nodded, tracing his fingers along a frame that held a photo of Boo.

'Yeah. At first it was 'cause she thought that if all the therapists see some kind of proof, that they'd believe I'm not pretending, that they'd see that's not schizophrenia.'

'And did they?,' Kurt said sceptically, expecting what the answer was going to be.

'No. Not until Sebastian's mom. He told you about that, didn't he?,' Blaine added, seeing the lack of surprise in his boyfriend's expression.

'He did. You know he's not one to keep his mouth shut, in all possible ways.'

That made Blaine chuckle and the mood lightened by a fraction.

'Anyway, Grandma kinda started seeing them as family, since there were times they were around as much as me. So there are pictures.'

Kurt took one more glance at the winding lines of photographs. There was no sign of anyone that could be Blaine's father.

'So- your dad wasn't family to her?'

Blaine sighed, rubbing his temple impatiently.

'I don't know. Something like that, I guess. But partly he's not here, 'because _I_ didn't want to see him anywhere around the house, in any form.'

'He didn't live with you?'

That part of the story had never cropped up before. Blaine had mentioned various bits and pieces related to his childhood, but never what had happened within the first couple of years after the accident. How the first thing he remembered was hearing from his drunken father that he was to blame for his mother and brother being gone. How things only got worse, and how words turned to blows that hurt physically. How his grandmother saw his bruises and fought in court for custody. How he prayed, just like Mommy had taught him, for Daddy to never come near him again. How his father's visits would only cause him to transition and lose control.

Now it was time to tell Kurt all this.

And Kurt listened, at first patiently, sympathetically as always, without much surprise, since many things he'd already either heard or figured out.

The second Blaine confessed to having been beaten by his father, Kurt's resigned empathy and calm were gone. All he wished to do was to find that bastard and strangle him with his own hands. The sole thought of how violent he suddenly became, how blood-thirsty he was, scared him to death. He could barely contain the rage he felt for the son of a bitch that ever dared to hurt his own son that way. As if everything that Blaine had suffered wasn't more than enough for a lifetime.

'He should be glad he's nowhere in the vicinity,' Kurt said through his teeth. 'I can't even- How could he do all that to you? How? Just- how?'

Blaine shrugged and put his hand on Kurt's back, rubbing it soothingly.

'It's not worth getting upset over,' he whispered. 'It's all done and over. He's not going to hurt me anymore.'

'I'm not upset. I'm furious.'

'I shouldn't have told you,' Blaine sighed, turning away from him in guilt.

'You should've. Blaine, if we really are serious about this, I have to know everything, the good and the bad. I'll wait if you're not ready to tell me something, but I need to know it eventually.'

They stood opposite each other, breathing deeply, their eyes locked on each other, their fists unknowingly clenched.

'Okay,' Blaine surrendered at last. 'And I don't wanna fight, no matter what about.'

'Me neither. Jest don't you ever think I shouldn't know things about you.'

'I'll do my best.'

* * *

They spent another hour at the house, while Blaine led Kurt through the corridors, pointing out various rooms. The one Boo loved to hide in, the one Kathryn would always sleep in, the one that used to be Blaine's mother's when she was young. The one that was still his.

Blaine's room in Westerville looked still like it belonged to a teenager. There were certificates of partaking in show choir competitions and a few posters of musicals and bands. Kurt glanced around, tracing his fingers along the smooth fabric of the comforter that covered the bed. The room was exactly what he'd expect from a younger Blaine.

'Your grandma?,' he asked, pointing to a frame on the bedside table. The picture showed an older woman with greying auburn hair and wrinkles that had to come from worry rather than from the smile she had on her face. The similarity between her and her earlier pictures downstairs was obvious, even though her experiences clearly weighed on her.

'Yeah.'

Sadness crossed his eyes, not unnoticed by his boyfriend.

'Do you wanna go?'

Blaine nodded in response.

'If that's okay,' he added.

'Absolutely.'

Languidly, they walked downstairs, locking their hands together once more. Blaine couldn't decide what he felt sadder about – leaving or going there only to see the house empty. He could have sold it a long time ago, but he never considered that an option. This was home, this was the treasury of a thousand good memories from a long line of very bad years. No matter how much time had passed, this was still a place he felt safe, despite the misery it sometimes had to witness, despite the sad thoughts it evoked now.

Neither said anything as they stopped to lock the door. It was quiet and peaceful enough for them to jump up startled when a voice called to them from the driveway.

'Blaine!'

A woman in her fifties was hurrying towards them from the gate they left open on their way in. Without a word of explanation to Kurt, Blaine tensed, locking his jaw uneasily.

'Hi, Mrs. Zimmerman,' he said when she was close enough to hear him. She didn't seem to notice he was speaking through his teeth.

'It is you! I was wondering, 'cause I didn't recognise the car. Aren't you going to introduce me?' Her gaze darted to Kurt for a split second.

'Of course,' he said, remembering to try and be polite. 'Mrs. Zimmerman, this is Kurt Hummel, my boyfriend. Kurt, this is Mrs. Zimmerman, she lives in the house opposite.'

Kurt took her hand and shook it gently, with a pleasant, though somewhat forced smile.

'It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Zimmerman,' he told her.

'Likewise,' she replied, before turning back to Blaine. 'So, did you come to see your father?'

If the level of Blaine's uneasiness could go any higher, it did with that question.

'No, actually, I was just- checking up on the house. We came to Ohio for Thanksgiving with Kurt's family.'

Mrs. Zimmerman frowned in confusion.

'Oh. I thought you'd go see him at the hospital.'

'What? What hospital?'

'Your father's in the hospital, didn't you know that? Apparently, he doesn't have much time left.'

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, I haven't updated in forever! I'm so sorry, but other things were keeping me occupied (and yes, one of them might have been watching all 8 seasons of _Supernatural_ in three weeks). I'm back now, though, and the updates should go back to normal, pretty much.

I also should be updating _Where We Belong_ really soon, so look out for a new chapter of that story, too!


	27. Chapter 27: Say

**Trigger warning: **talk of self-harm

* * *

**Chapter 27: Say**

The drive back to Lima was just as quiet as their journey to Columbus in the morning had been, only the reason for it had altered. Mrs Zimmerman's news – and the unwelcome details she'd provided unasked – left Blaine in a state of utter confusion. He was going from pitying his father and wanting to see him to wishing him a long and painful death. And back again.

Once they reached the Hudson-Hummels', Blaine excused himself and snuck upstairs.

'Something happened?,' Burt asked as the door shut behind Blaine with a soft thump above them.

Kurt hesitated before remembering that they all were family to Blaine, in a way.

'His father's dying. A neighbour told him when we went to his house.'

'What is it? Cancer?,' Carole cut in sympathetically.

'From what she told us, it's cirrhosis and it's bad,' Kurt replied quietly, gesturing for them to go on to the living room.

He slumped onto the sofa, hiding his face in his hands. The worst part of being with Blaine was how helpless he sometimes felt, unable to make things better in any way. Not the alters or the drama, just the complete inability to be of use.

'When is he going to see him, then?,' Carole asked as gently as she could.

'I don't know if he is at all.' Burt exchanged a look with his wife, causing Kurt to add, 'I don't know if he knows it either. If I were in his shoes, I probably wouldn't.'

'You don't think he should see his old man?,' Burt said frowning. 'I know it's not a picnic between the two of them, but if the guy's in a bad shape...'

Kurt looked up at him with resignation.

'It's up to him. Whatever he decides, I'll stick by him.'

Carole sent him a weak smile and patted him on the knee.

'He's lucky to have you.'

'It goes both ways.'

Kurt steered clear of their room for another hour, leaving Blaine alone with his thoughts. Each moment that passed without any sign from him, though, made Kurt increasingly worried. Blaine had to be checked up on, despite the strong possibility that if any of the alters showed up, they'd have made themselves known by now.

The door creaked as Kurt pushed it open.

'Blaine?'

He was nowhere in sight. Kurt called him again, a little louder, shutting the door behind him and hurrying towards the bathroom.

Blaine was sitting on the closed toilet, a razor blade in his hand, his eyes fixed on the small metal object. He didn't look up when Kurt burst into the room.

'I didn't do anything,' Blaine said, watching the edge of the shiny blade. 'I found it by accident and- I don't know. I was just thinking- I don't know what I was thinking.'

Kurt took a couple of cautious steps towards him and crouched down in front of him. Blaine finally raised his gaze at his boyfriend with a sad smile.

'You said you wouldn't let me do this again.'

'I won't.'

Gently, with tiny careful movements, Kurt unlocked Blaine's fingers from the razor blade. Then he helped him up, leading him back into the bedroom.

'Are you any better?,' Kurt asked as they sat on the bed, arms around each other, inseparable.

'Not really. I have no idea what to do or what to think. I'm changing my mind about this as soon as I make it up.'

'I'm not going to tell you what to do. This has to be your decision, but-' Kurt's voice trailed off for a minute, his hands stroking Blaine's back absently. 'As much as I'd want to hurt him for everything that he's done to you, I think you should go see him. Even if just to tell him how wrong he's done by you. Maybe it would give you some closure.'

Seconds seeped by without any answer, turning into minutes, making Blaine's chest pang from the overload of memories and feelings that wouldn't leave him be. If there was ever a decision that was more difficult for him to make, he couldn't recall it. Even resolving to leave Kurt when he'd attempted it was easier. Only then it was love – pure and simple love – that drove him, aiding in the process. This time it was that strange combination of utter hatred and disgust, diluted with the most persistent kind of love and gratitude that accompanied him, providing him with anything but aid. Until now, he hadn't even realised he had any positive feelings left in him for his father.

'Do you really think it could help?,' Blaine asked finally. 'That it would help me move on, forget- whatever?'

Kurt shrugged with the shoulder where Blaine's head wasn't resting, and pulled his boyfriend closer.

'I honestly don't know.'

'But you'll be fine with whatever I decide?' Blaine's voice was almost pleading.

'Whatever you decide,' Kurt confirmed.

Silence fell again, the painful dilemma consuming Blaine from the inside out like acid. Something had to be decided. Something had to be done. What if Richard died without Blaine even getting a chance to tell him how much he screwed up his life? What if he really was in a bad enough shape that Blaine wouldn't have another opportunity to say goodbye? Did he even want to say goodbye, or more like "Fuck yourself and die, you son of a bitch"?

For a moment, an image filled Blaine's mind. His father, sick and skinny, wrapped up in a hospital bed, finally powerless and completely dependent on others. A look of guilt and misery entering his face as Blaine tells him that it was him, Richard, that killed Caitlin and Cooper. Not Blaine, not one bit was Blaine guilty.

He chased the vision away. It seemed to cruel to torture someone who was dying anyway, no matter how enormous and disgusting his crimes were.

Carole calling them to come down to dinner interrupted Blaine's thoughts, but he didn't make a move.

'Come on, food might take your mind off of things,' Kurt said, dragging his finger lightly along Blaine's jaw, before kissing him quickly on the lips.

'I'm not sure I can eat anything right now.'

'Then I'll get you some tea and make sure no one bothers you.'

With the weakest of smiles, Blaine nodded in assent.

* * *

Blaine kept on picking on his food, barely swallowing a bite of it. He could feel the concerned looks he was given. It was irritating to be the fragile child again, but at the same time it was somehow comforting to know he wasn't alone in this. Nobody forced him into conversation and nobody tried to convince him he should eat, so it wasn't as bad as it could've been. Mostly he was left alone with his own thoughts, save for the looks.

When the dinner came to a lazy natural close, Carole dragged Kurt and Finn with her to the kitchen, leaving Blaine alone with Burt.

Suddenly, the atmosphere became tense, almost like the first night they talked back in New York. Blaine shifted in his chair, his eyes squared away from Kurt's father. The napkin holder in front of him became unexpectedly fascinating.

'You okay, kid?,' Burt asked.

His big kind eyes were fixed stubbornly on Blaine, forcing him to look up.

'Uh, no,' he admitted. 'I don't think I am.'

Burt nodded slowly in a consideration. He didn't think he had a good way with words, but sometimes there came these moments when things had to be said. It was never easy to say them, simply because they were never pleasant.

'I may not know exactly what made you and your old man grow apart or what happened between the two of you, but there are moments in life when you have to put all your hurt in a box and give the person who hurt you a second chance. Or a hundredth. Because sometimes this is the last chance you're gonna get.' He paused for a second, searching his thoughts. He wasn't even certain he knew what he was getting at. 'I'm not saying your dad's gonna make it all right all of the sudden. He might screw this all up completely. But if he does, if he lets this chance go to complete waste, at least you'll know that you've done everything in your power to make this better.'

The room fell into a strange charged silence. For a moment Blaine felt like screaming, wishing to tell Burt how much he hated his father, how fucked up his life was because of that motherfucker. But he bit his tongue, letting the temporary rage seep away. There was no point in having a beef with father-in-law.

And he had to admit, there was a grain of truth in what Burt said. If Richard screwed it all up once more, one last time, Blaine could be able to finally stop beating himself up for hating him. Richard had been given chances before, multiple chances to redeem himself, to acknowledge his guilt, to admit that Blaine was sick, to make things right. But until now, he hadn't been dying.

This chance, if given, would likely truly be the last one he could ever get.

'Kurt didn't tell you anything about my father?,' Blaine asked.

'No. He knows that if you wanted us to know, you'd tell us.'

Blaine nodded curtly.

'I guess he's right. Kinda. It's not that I don't want you to know, though, it's just- tough.'

'I get it, kid. And I wasn't telling you all this to order you around. But speaking from experience, you don't want to leave something unsaid. It's better to get things off your chest while you still can, whatever they are.

Burt got on his feet, patting Blaine on the shoulder in passing.

'Thanks,' Blaine muttered. 'Thanks for the advice.'

'This is what family is for, kiddo.'

* * *

**A/N:** Not late with the update this week, hooray!

Just so you know, I haven't written anything in the last couple of weeks, but I still have some chapters in drafts, so don't fret! Anyhow, there's only a few more chapters that I have to write in this story. You'll see the finish line for sure.

And BTW, it's been a year today since I started writing my first Klaine fic. It went by so fast!


	28. Chapter 28: Relative

**Chapter 28: Relative**

The hospital hallway was cold and eerily quiet. The flickering fluorescent light above them didn't help to alleviate the ominous feeling of the place. It was the ward for the terminally ill, so nobody was running around in a rush most of the time. It seemed almost as if the patients there weren't being treated, only waiting to die.

Kurt glanced through the rare unshaded windows into patient rooms with unease. Most of the people inside had the appearance of ghosts or skeletons, eaten through and though by whatever disease they were suffering from. Blaine kept his eyes fixed on the end of the hallways where they had been directed for information.

A tired-looking middle-aged woman was sitting at the nurses' station and she raised her eyes at them at the sound of their footsteps echoing in the hallway.

'How can I help you?,' she asked politely.

'I- I wanted to ask for some information on Richard Anderson's condition, please,' Blaine mumbled.

'Are you family?'

Blaine swallowed loudly.

'He's his son,' Kurt cut in.

'I didn't realise you two were in touch,' the nurse said to Blaine with a judging look.

'We're not. I live in New York,' Blaine said, wondering why he was explaining himself at all. 'And I'm not close with my father. Can you just tell me how bad exactly he is?'

The nurse pursed her lips, evidently holding something back.

'I'll go get the doctor to talk to you,' she said finally, before disappearing in the door behind her.

Blaine began tapping his fingers nervously on the counter of the station. He was surprised he was handling the situation so well. Ever since he'd made up his mind the night before about coming here just to find out what his father's condition was, he'd had a fear growing in him that this would be enough to overwhelm him. But he was much better than he'd expected to be. He was even almost calm about another drive to Columbus. He still didn't have the same matter-of-fact attitude that regular people have about travelling by car, but it seemed like he was getting there.

After a moment of waiting, the door opened again, revealing a balding man in his forties and the nurse from earlier. The doctor circled the counter, extending his hand in greeting to Blaine and Kurt.

'Hi, I'm Dr. Hall, I'm treating your father.'

'Blaine Anderson, and this is my boyfriend, Kurt Hummel,' Blaine introduced them, taking pride from being with Kurt.

'Nurse Debbie here tells me you came all the way from New York to see your father,' Dr. Hall said conversationally. 'He told us not to call you when we admitted him back in October, and I thought you wouldn't care enough to visit him.'

'He's been here a month?,' Blaine asked in surprise.

The doctor shook his head.

'Actually, he's been here for almost two months now. But let me take you to him, since you've come such a long way.'

'I'm not here to see him,' Blaine said hastily, throwing Dr. Hall for a loop. 'I just came to find out if he really is dying.'

Heavy silence fell on the almost deserted hallway, save for the ominous echo of Blaine's words. They sounded harsh, but they were uncompromisingly true. He wanted nothing more. At least for now.

'You only wanted to find out what his condition was, then?,' Dr. Hall finally asked, clearly saddened that one of his terminal patients wasn't getting visitors after all. Since the beginning of his career, he'd believed having loved ones around could do miracles for the patient. Although on second thought, he decided there could indeed be no saving Richard Anderson, who was already known throughout the ward for his unpleasantness and brusqueness.

'Yes, right now that's all we want to know,' Kurt replied, seeing that Blaine's doubts were coming back. 'We came to Ohio for Thanksgiving anyway, so we didn't go that far.

Blaine nodded in support of his boyfriend's words. He still couldn't tell if he was doing the right thing.

'Okay then,' the doctor sighed with resignation. 'Mr Anderson has advanced stage cirrhosis and is currently on a waiting list for a liver transplant. If we don't find a donor in time, he's looking at three, maybe four more weeks.'

'So he is dying. Really dying,' Blaine muttered, shocked as if he'd just first heard the news.

'Unfortunately, yes.'

Kurt was watching Blaine closely, worried that anything could be the last straw that would cause him to transition. There was a slight tremble in his hands before he clasped them firmly together, but other than that he seemed relatively fine.

'You said he needs a transplant? So you're waiting for someone to die to save him?' There was an almost imperceptible trace of sneer in his voice.

'Typically, that's true,' Dr. Hall began slowly. 'But in case of a liver transplant, the donor can be a living person. Most usually it's a close relative.'

A frown lined Kurt's forehead. Did that guy seriously just suggest that _Blaine_ should give up a piece of an organ to _his father_? Wasn't it obvious it wasn't going to happen? Not with the amount of resentment that was between the two of them, not with the hurt and hate, and-

'Where can I get tested?,' Blaine's words interrupted Kurt's thoughts.

'What?!'

A couple of nurses down the hallway sent him disapproving looks.

'I want to get tested if I could be the donor,' Blaine said calmly.

'Do you honestly want to give him an organ? Do you think he deserves even a cell of your liver? You didn't get him sick, he drank himself to death. Do you think you owe him anything after everything that he's ever done?'

Every single word Kurt said stung painfully in Blaine's chest. There was too much truth in them to cast them off or deny them. Dr. Hall wanted to cut in, but stopped, seeing how Blaine's hands began to tremble uncontrollably as he hid his face in them for a moment.

'I just need to know. There's a chance I won't be a match anyway. There's a chance meds have already screwed up my liver and I can't donate it. Isn't that true, Doctor?' He lifted his eyes half-hopefully, half-helplessly at the man.

'What kind of medication are you on?,' Dr. Hall asked.

'Right now I'm not on anything, but I used to be on psychoactives and antidepressants for years, until a couple of months ago.'

The information took the doctor aback, and Blaine snorted lightly at the look of surprise in his face.

'So I take it my father didn't mention he's son was crazy. Could've guessed.'

Kurt squeezed his boyfriend's arm comfortingly. Seeing him upset because of that bastard was one of the most painful things in the world.

'What were you treated for? If I may ask,' Dr. Hall said, trying to sound as polite as possible.

'DID, PTSD and depression,' Blaine recited on one exhale of breath. 'My father thinks I've made it up to gain attention.'

'Those are serious conditions, why aren't you medicated anymore? I could direct you to a great psychiatrist. Have you heard of Dr. Smythe?'

'There's no need. I'm in therapy in New York and I know Dr. Smythe. She's the one who diagnosed my DID,' Blaine explained. 'I'm off my meds, because I was tired of them, they made me feel unlike myself, and trust me, the alters give me enough of that.'

Dr. Hall nodded pensively. That family seemed to him even more twisted now, than it did when he first met Richard Anderson.

'I understand that you'd want to help in your father's treatment.' Blaine opened his mouth to interrupt Dr. Hall, but the latter raised his hand to show him he wasn't finished. 'However, there are rules against donating organs from sick patients. Including mentally ill ones.'

'But it's not like I'm incapable of making informed decisions,' Blaine countered. 'I can decide for myself.'

Dr. Hall smiled at him sadly.

'I can't go against the rules, I'm sorry.'

Mixed emotions fought inside of Blaine for another moment, but finally he nodded, resigned. He couldn't even be sure if it really was resignation; it could just as easily have been relief that this particular dilemma was taken off his shoulders.

'Could you not tell him I was here?,' he asked the doctor.

'If this is what you wish.'

'It is.'

With a tiny apologetic smile, Blaine turned around, catching Kurt's hand in his and heading back down the hallway.

* * *

**A/N:** A little late again, but I'm trying to get my fics in order, so hopefully, I'll get back to updating on schedule.

Thanks for sticking around this story!


	29. Chapter 29: Don't Praise the Day

**Chapter 29: Don't Praise the Day...**

Kurt could barely keep his eyes on the road as they were going back towards Lima. The fidgeting and tapping on the door and whatever was within Blaine's reach was disturbing, but he knew asking him to stop wasn't going to help. At first he didn't even know what he could say to make Blaine feel better, because there was no way of knowing what was going on inside his head.

'Would you really consider doing it if you could?,' Kurt asked tentatively after a good hour and a half of deafening silence.

'I don't know. At least I'd have a choice.'

The tapping stopped for a moment as Blaine shrugged his shoulders.

'Would it be better if you did? Have a choice?'

Another shrug, followed by Blaine rubbing his temples impatiently. He'd spent the whole time since leaving the hospital on focusing hard on keeping it together. He knew Kurt was trying to be helpful, but the usefulness of talking was debatable.

'Depends on how much I want him dead,' Blaine said finally.

'And you don't know that.' It was a statement.

'I don't.'

Kurt nodded in acknowledgement not only of his boyfriend's answer, but also of his own powerlessness. There was no use talking, so he stopped talking.

This time, the silence didn't last long, broken by the unexpected ringing of Blaine's phone. He picked up a little too roughly for its touch screen.

'Yeah?,' he said brusquely into the receiver.

'Hi, Blaine, it's Lindsey.' The voice on the other end definitely belonged to Santana's girlfriend, but she sounded strangely sad.

'Hi, Linds, what is it?' The hope Blaine had had attached to her name in his mind burst like a bubble.

The line stayed silent for a few seconds as she hesitated.

'I've been talking to people about you these last few weeks. I've been playing them the demo you taped for me. They all loved you.'

'Where's the "but", Lindsey?'

He could hear her sigh somewhere in New York City.

'But you told me not to keep your health issues a secret, so I didn't.'

Blaine snorted.

'They don't want me, because I'm crazy.'

'Not exactly,' Lindsey said in an attempt to soften the blow. 'They said "unpredictable" and "challenging".'

'So I gather it's a challenge they won't accept.'

'Actually, one label has a proposition for you, only it's not what you could expect,' she continues cautiously.

Blaine let out a long sigh.

'Shoot. Nothing can make this day any worse.'

'They want your music. They want you to write music for their artists.'

'What?! No, that's _my_ music.' Blaine's heart began racing. If any of those label people had been within his reach, he would most certainly punch them where it hurts. 'I don't write for other people, I write for myself. You can tell them to go and fuck themselves. It's psycho or no psycho, no in-betweens.'

'I'll rephrase that, if I may,' Lindsey answered. 'I thought you'd react that way and I respect that. But if you change your mind- you know where to find me.'

'Yeah, but I'm not changing my mind. Thanks for telling me, though.' Blaine bit his lip, feeling a little guilty for the way he talked to her. 'Linds, you know I'm not angry with you, right?'

'Sure. Have a happy Thanksgiving, both you and Kurt,' she said.

'Thanks. You too.'

Blaine hung up, barely stopping himself from throwing his phone on the car floor in frustration. Kurt would only glance at him from the corner of his eye every couple of seconds, without a word.

'Aren't you gonna ask what she said?,' Blaine asked at last.

'I heard. They want your songs and not the whole package. It's their loss.' He shrugged, forcing a small smile to try and cheer Blaine up. It didn't work.

'Right. It's not like I lost a career opportunity only because I'm fucking insane.' Blaine's voice was full of bitterness.

'Hey, don't talk to me like it's my fault,' Kurt protested. 'Sure, it didn't work out for a ridiculous reason, especially 'cause you've been better ever since you started composing again. That's discrimination. But it doesn't mean you won't make it. With a label's help or not. Look at all the people who made it thanks to freaking YouTube. Why can't you try that, too?

Blaine snorted in annoyance.

'Yeah, I'll call my channel "Brooklyn Psycho Bieber", people are gonna love it.'

'Will you stop? You know what, you won't get anywhere with this attitude,' Kurt told him seriously. 'Take a while to re-think your options, okay? And you still have your bar gigs, if all else fails. People love you, remember that.'

A short nod was Blaine's whole answer and Kurt didn't catch it. They were just entering the Lima city limits, and he was watching the road before entering a nasty intersection.

'Blaine? Did you hear me?'

'Yeah.'

Kurt turned his head around for a split second to send his boyfriend a comforting smile.

It was enough for him not to notice the car that swerved uncontrollably in the middle of the intersection. He only caught a glimpse of silver before the deafening screech of bent metal and clink of broken glass filled their SUV, and the air bag exploded, knocking him out.

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry the chapter is so short. And sorry for the cliffhanger.

I'll try to get the next chapter posted earlier, so that you don't wish to kill me for it too badly.


	30. Chapter 30: Shut Them Out

**Chapter 30: Shut Them Out**

Even before he opened his eyes, Blaine knew he was alone.

Only that he wasn't and it felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He could hear them – no, _feel_ them talking, even though, wherever he was, the place was silent, apart from the disturbing beeping somewhere in the near proximity. It took him a minute to realise the beeping came from hospital equipment and it made sense for him to be in a hospital. In the end, if _that_ was afterlife, he'd be gravely disappointed.

Slowly, he lifted his eyelids, praying somewhere deep inside his soul for the impossible, but when he glanced around, he knew that everything he feared must have been true, since there was no one sitting at his bedside.

He tried focusing on what Kathryn and Cooper were saying, but it was all vague and incomprehensible, as if they were speaking in another language.

He tried lifting his arms to his face and learnt that they were still in their places, uninjured. As soon as he touched his forehead, though, he knew there had to be a huge cut going across it that was now hidden under a dressing. There was also an IV drip stuck in the back of his hand.

All this time he was forcing himself _not to think_. Not to think about what had happened. About why he was here. About Kurt. He couldn't do that, he couldn't think, he couldn't let himself think about what he had lost. He could barely remember the way the car was pushed to the sidewalk, so loudly. He thought then his eardrums would burst. And then there were the buzzing voices in his head and that _fucking beeping_ reminding him that he was still alive, even though he had nothing left to live for.

'Shut up, shut up, shut up,' he muttered to himself, squeezing his eyes close again.

'Blaine, you need us, sweetie,' Kathryn said in a voice full of sympathy and love.

Blaine had never heard her speak before. This was the first time he had ever truly _met_ her, despite her being a part of him for over a decade. It felt strange to hear a voice that would be so much like and unlike his own at the same time.

'I don't need you. I need Kurt,' he said out loud.

'But Kurt's not here anymore, little brother,' Cooper told him gently, like he used to back when Blaine was a toddler to comfort him. 'We're gonna take care of you, squirt.'

A wave of anger swept over Blaine. He almost jumped out of bed, even though dizziness hit him as soon as he sat up, and his knees were close to buckling under his weight when he stood on his feet. He jerked the IV needle out of his hand.

'I'd rather die than be stuck with you for the rest of my life,' he said through his teeth.

'But who will take care of you now that Kurt's gone?,' Kathryn said desperately.

'You know I'll never leave you alone, Blainey,' Cooper added.

Blaine put his hands on his throbbing head, groaning as if the confusion in his mind pained him physically.

'You don't even know if that's true!,' he almost screamed. 'I don't _know_ that! I was unconscious! _We _were unconscious.'

He tore off the electrodes that connected him to the surrounding machines, causing the heart monitor to flat-line. He couldn't care less. He pushed his feet towards the door.

A mixture of dread and shock hit him when the door opened before he was able to reach them, and Carole ran into the room with her eyes wide with fear.

'Blaine?,' she asked, astonished to see him standing up.

'Where's Kurt?,' he demanded. His voice was trembling so badly he could hardly pronounce the words.

'Oh, sweetie, you're fine,' Carole said, a wave of relief coming over her. 'I was so scared for you for a moment there.'

She pulled him in a hug, but he pushed her away after a split second.

'Where's Kurt?,' he repeated as firmly as he could in this state. Kathryn and Cooper kept on trying to convince him only they could take care of him, but he did all he could to shut them out.

'Oh, honey, he's right here.' Carole smiled at him weakly through her tears.

Blaine swallowed.

'The morgue?,' he asked in a barely audible whisper.

'Morgue? What? Who told- No!' She put her hands on the sides of his face, looking him in the eye. 'Kurt is fine. He's got a little banged up, like you did, but it's nothing serious. He was unconscious for a bit, too, but he's awake now.'

Somehow, Blaine's heart didn't feel any lighter. He had to see Kurt before he believed any of that.

'Really?,' he choked out.

'Really.' Carole didn't break the eye contact even for a second. 'Do you want to see him?'

'Yes.'

* * *

Despite his protests, Carole forced Blaine into a wheelchair to get him to Kurt's room two doors down. She could see that his knees were still wobbling underneath him, even though he played tough. He didn't care about himself at this moment. All he needed was to know that Kurt was alive, that he was fine and that he wasn't leaving him alone.

Kurt was sitting up in his hospital bed, propped on a stack of pillows. A huge red bruise spread on the left side of his face where the air bag hit him. He was still nauseous and weak from the dull throbbing in his head, but he smiled at the sight of Blaine. His concern about him had been making him even sicker than his injuries.

'Blaine! Are you alright?,' he asked as soon as he saw his boyfriend. Carole had already told him that the loss of consciousness was likely the most serious thing that happened to Blaine.

The only answer he was able to give was a tiny nod. Tears welled up in his eyes as Carole stopped his chair next to Kurt's bed and he took his boyfriend's hand. Feeling the familiar touch finally let relief sweep over him. He placed a series of kisses to the back of Kurt's hand.

'I thought- I thought-,' he stuttered. 'I thought you were gone.'

He lifted his wet eyes up at Kurt, who brushed the side of Blaine's face gently with his fingers.

'I'm not. I'm fine, we're both fine.'

Blaine attempted a smile, still not fully believing his life wasn't over. They were both alive, both were barely injured, and he didn't need his alters, because Kurt was still there. He realised he couldn't feel Kathryn or Cooper anymore.

'I don't think I'm getting in a car ever again, though,' he said. 'Bad things tend to happen with me in a car.'

'It was just an accident,' Kurt said softly, stroking the back of Blaine's hand with his thumb. 'The guy that crashed into us got a heart attack behind the wheel. It was nobody's fault, just a bad coincidence.'

'Yeah, I'm a magnet for those.' Blaine grimaced. 'Is he dead?'

'No, but he's in ICU.'

Blaine inhaled deeply. Knowing no one was to blame was comforting, yet nothing could help him get rid of the gnawing thought he really attracted accidents somehow.

He didn't manage to say anything before Burt showed up at the door with a relieved smile on his face. His eyes were suspiciously red.

'The doctors say you should be released this time tomorrow,' he informed them.

'Should? Tomorrow?,' Kurt repeated. 'I thought we just had some cuts and bruises.'

'They're just being cautious,' Burt answered calmly. 'They want to make sure you're fine before they let you go. You both hit your heads, so they have to know if there's no damage there.'

'Well, my head wasn't fine to begin with,' Blaine said lightly, surprising everyone in the room, including himself.

Kurt smiled at him.

'Your head's alright, honey.'

'Except for the moment when it wasn't a moment ago.'

'But now it is. And I'll do everything in my power for it to stay that way.'

* * *

**A/N:** Like I said, the chapter's early. No cliffhanger this time!


End file.
